Openings and Closings
by Goldie Jean Aeglaca
Summary: Sequel to Bones that Speak: Fangtasia opens as Louisiana politics grow more complex and a new, although unwilling, monarch takes the throne. Carly contines to cope with her powers and struggles to help the living as much as the dead. Eric/OC; Godric/We shall see. May lack HEA.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Thank you all for your support. Here is a follow-up to Bones that Speak, although I'm not certain whether this will be novella or novel length. As before I own no characters having to do with True Blood or SVM, but I do claim Carly as my own.

Chapter One

Preparations for the opening of Fangtasia had been the least of Carly Michael's concerns for the past three weeks, ever since the night in Flemington, New Jersey, when Eric cast Christophe-the murderous yet still tragic artist-onto the fire and into his freedom.

Most of her time over those three weeks had been spent trying to cope with her newly found and quickly expanding abilities. Not only could she now tune into what people where thinking, she could do it through walls; she didn't just get isolated dreams from handling the remains of people who had died, but she could direct waking hallucinations to seek out specific information about both life and death. Although she couldn't clearly hear the thoughts of vampires, she could—somehow—tune into what the valkyries who'd preceded her had learned either as witnesses or from consuming the memories of the dead who had witnessed events. Through this last, still poorly understood process, she'd identified Russell Edgington as the vampire responsible for sicking a pack of werewolves onto Eric Northman's family a thousand years ago in Sweden. She'd also learned that she was poisonous to ill-tempered vampires. This last piece of knowledge was what kept her up, mostly in the early morning once Eric had gone to sleep. Every morning after sunrise she looked at him, the strong, protective vampire who claimed her as his own, and worried that she might somehow, against her will, become his bane.

All of these supernatural concerns, along with her regular workload at the Medical Examiner's office in Shreveport, kept her blissfully unaware of the extent and complexity of preparations at Fangtasia. Once she gained enough courage to stay home by herself, in the guest house that belonged to Eric's lawyer, she saw little of the former strip club as it made its final transformation into Fangtasia—the Premiere Vampire Nightclub of Ark-La-Tex, specifically the Shreveport-Bossier Metropolitan Area.

From what Carly gathered in the small hours of the morning when Eric finally found his way back to her—he spent most nights with her at the guest house, although he'd finally taken her to his home over the weekends—Pam was carrying most of the load as far as opening the bar was concerned. Eric, on the other hand, was trying to remain above the political fray as vampires negotiated the future of Louisiana.

A number of proposals were, apparently, under discussion. The proposal favored by the Magister and some of the mysterious "authority" members was that Eric take on the monarchy of Louisiana. This was, he assured Carly, his least favorite position, since most monarchs were either remarkably successful, like Jean-Jacques, or unsuccessful, like Sophie-Ann. Eric certainly didn't want to end like the late queen of Louisiana, and he thought that he might have to work much too hard to make Louisiana a success. He preferred, infinitely, to manage his own fiefdom well and to juggle numerous business interests around the world. Most monarchs had many progeny, a fact that helped them to secure their positions, and Eric only had one, although he commanded respect from most vampires who knew him.

Another proposal, which Eric did favor, was bringing in a monarch from another area. Eric had taken a few quick trips to Texas along with the Magister and some unnamed officials to try to persuade a Dallas-area sheriff to take the position, but the vampire was still undecided. Carly knew few details about this vampire, but Eric seemed almost giddy at the prospect of the new monarch.

The least favorite, but apparently most likely proposal, was the partition of Louisiana into three areas: New Orleans would become an autonomous district (like the District of Columbia) and home to the public face of vampires, to this "authority," and two other regions that would be annexed by adjacent states. Unfortunately, the other southern monarchs seemed about as interested in the prosperity of their regions as Sophie-Ann had been. Russell Edgington, king of Mississippi, was a murderous, avaricious monster, and Peter Threadgill, king of Arkansas, seemed to be fairly retiring, although Eric thought that both men had designs on Louisiana for some time. According to Eric, it seemed most likely that western Louisiana would be annexed to Texas and the Gulf coast and Mississippi floodplain would be annexed to Mississippi. As long as he wound up working for the King of Texas, Eric had no substantial complaints with this solution, although he dreaded any decision that would force him to engage Edgington.

So, just as Fangtasia was about to open to the public—humans and vampires alike—Louisiana was embroiled in political intrigue that would have far-reaching, if unknown, consequences to humans.

Since Eric was out of town again the night before the opening, Carly was at home, making sure the final touches on the portrait of Eric and Pam were complete and the portrait was ready to be hung in the bar. She was very proud of her work, mainly because it was the first portrait she'd done from live—or relatively live—models. The shimmer from Pam's beautiful red gown was extraordinary and seemed to play off whatever light was in the room. At times, Carly had sworn it sparkled in the dark, even though she hadn't included any luminescent pigments. Eric looked dashing and dangerous in his stripped down outfit—like the lord of the castle caught mid conquest. Carly had even gone the extra step to antique the painting so that it looked like it had been painted years ago. While she had no where near the talent—nor the sophistication of techniqueee that Christophe had—she was proud that the patrons of Fangtasia would see Eric and Pam through her eyes.

Carly heard a knock at the door that was only half expected. Pam had called at sundown to say that if she had time, she would drop by to pick up the painting.

Indeed, Pam was at the door, along with a dolly to transport the large portrait.

"Hey Pam, how are you?"

"Bored." Pam, who had been to the guest house many times, strolled inside, leaving the dolly behind.

"Why?"

"Details, Carly. I hate details, and I'm swimming in them."

"Only one more night." Although she was afraid to offer, Carly asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

Pam smirked in her suggestive way and said, "I can think of lots of ways, but Eric would kill me."

"Anything that I can do that won't result in your death?"

"You can help me hang the painting and then pick out my outfit for tomorrow. Eric said I had to look vampiric and ravishing." Pam puffed out her chest and deepened her tone for the last two words.

Carly enjoyed flattering Pam, because she ate up every bit of it. "Well, Pam, you're always vampirically ravishing to me, if it makes you feel better."

"Thanks for noticing, Carly." Pam pointed at the painting. "How do we get it in the van without fucking it up?"

Carly lifted the painting into the protective carton the framer used to transport it and retacked the back to it. "It isn't stable for a thousand mile trip, but it will make it to the club." Carly tipped the carton to the side, and Pam moved the dolly inside and secured the carton to it. "So, can I get a preview of Fangtasia?"

"Sure, but you have to make me a promise." Pam looked much more serious than she usually did, even though she didn't sparkle with laughter.

"What about?"

"My clothes are at my house—you have to promise to keep its location secret."

"Of course, Pam." Carly thought for a moment and then asked, "Can I tell Eric I've been there?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Pam gave Carly a look somewhere between a scowl and a smirk.

Carly shrugged and replied, "The audience for a secret is as important as the information."

Pam lifted one shoulder in a "whatever" expression that seemed to call for a verbal response.

"Sounds like a lot of fun." Carly never really got to do "girly" things in childhood or adolescence, and Pam was way more "girl" than Carly could ever hope to be, so, if nothing else, Carly could fill in an existential gap.

"What are you wearing?" Pam asked.

"I hadn't really thought about it." Carly probably would wear the same outfit she wore to Christophe's execution or maybe just a simple black dress. The plum gown her mother had bought her was beautiful, and she saw no reason not to wear it again.

Pam smiled broadly and said, "Oh, now we're going to have fun!"

Carly felt a little frightened.

After hanging the portrait and breaking up the carton for disposal, Pam gave Carly the "grand tour" of Fangtasia. It basically looked like a bar. A dance floor in front of the stage was punctuated by three small platforms for go-go dancers—who were all going to be vampires. The walls were a deep, dark purple, and there were lots of signs for beer companies and blood companies in neon and mirrors. The walls also included warnings that said there was to be "no biting."

"That's just to be safe—to reinforce that we're harmless." Pam winked. "Of course, you know otherwise." Pam stretched out the last syllable suggestively. "Human laws haven't really caught up yet, but there's no reason to beg for trouble."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"Now, it's party time." Pam beckoned Carly toward her car, leaving the bartender, whom Carly did not like at all—a Native American vampire named Longshadow who made her very nervous—and a few human staff to do the final check to make sure kegs were full, taps were working, and everything was ready for the grand opening the next night.

Once in the car, Pam asked, "What size shoe do you wear?"

"Nine."

"Excellent!" Pam enthused.

"Why?"

"We can share shoes—just don't fuck up any of my good pumps."

Carly hadn't really thought about it before, but they were about the same size, about five-eight or so, and they were about the same weight, or Carly presumed. She thought that Pam might be a little bustier.

Pam's phone rang, and she asked Carly to answer it.

"It's Eric," Carly reported and then answered, "Pam's phone."

"With my girl answering. Why is that, I wonder?" Eric said playfully.

"I think we're going to go play dress-up, or Pam's going to get me ready for tomorrow night."

Eric laughed loudly on the other end of the line and yelled out to Pam, "No frilly sweaters!"

"Damn him," Pam yelled back, "She'll be so damn hot you won't be able to keep your hands off her!"

"Make sure, Carly, that Pam has you wearing clothes."

"Very funny, Eric." Carly giggled. "Do you need me to tell Pam something?"

"I was just going to tell her that I'm headed back, but that I was going to go to your house. Ask her if I can come over for the fashion show?"

"Did you hear that Pam?" Carly asked.

"No, he certainly may not. It's going to be a surprise."

"Get that, you're out of luck, Eric. No input on the fashion choices for opening night."

"I'm devastated, Carly, just devastated."

"Eric, was there a decision about what's going to happen?" Carly tried to turn the subject back to something more serious.

"Yes, and I'm very, very pleased. I'll tell you all about it when Pam returns you to your house, but you can tell her," Eric's volume decreased so that Carly strained to hear him, "that the whole family will be in Louisiana from now on. That will get her attention."

"Okay. I will. I'll see you later, then, okay?"

"Sooner would be preferable to later, Carly." Eric clearly articulated his playfulness.

"Did you hear that last part, Pam?" Carly asked.

"No, just the part about your house. Was he talking dirty?" Pam teased her.

Carly tried to be as precise as possible when she said, "He told me that I was to tell you that the whole family will be in Louisiana from now on."

Pam slammed on the breaks and the car skidded to a halt. Carly screamed and Pam shouted, "Shut the fuck up. Seriously?"

"Pam, what was that about? Are you trying to scare me to death?" Carly could feel her heart beating so fast against her tightened seatbelt that she thought she would panic and faint.

"I can't believe it," Pam said tentatively as she began to straighten and accelerate the car just as tentatively.

"Believe what?" Carly tried to contain the panic in her voice, but it wasn't going to abate easily.

Pam looked over at Carly, who struggled to read her expression. The general cynical irony that usually twisted Pam's face into a condescending smirk was replaced by an appearance of startled tenderness and mild fear. She said quietly, "I think Eric has to explain it to you."

"Okay." Pam pulled herself back up to a comfortable seating position. "Do you still want to pick out outfits?"

"Yeah, sure, but we shouldn't take more than an hour or two. He'll want to talk with you."

Carly began to worry. "Pam, are you afraid?"

"No," Pam shook her head. "I'm happy, really." Cocking her head to one side, she said, "It might just get a little more complicated for the two of us."

"You and me?"

"Honey, we both just got lower on the totem pole." Pam laughed and said, "I thought I hated sharing hi with you. Just you wait."

"So, this sheriff is another child of Eric's?" Carly thought that perhaps the sheriff would be an older child, perhaps one Eric was intimate with, since he and Pam no longer had sex with each other.

"Just wait until Eric talks to you about it."

With the mystery weighting down the space between them, Carly didn't pay any attention to the drive to Pam's home. When they drove into an elegant gated community of small patio homes, Carly was startled. Carly couldn't imagine Pam living among so many humans happily, since she always expressed such misanthropy, particularly a great deal of misandry. When she saw that the community was adjacent to a golf course that must have seethed with middle aged men during the daytime, Carly thought she'd fallen through the Twilight Zone.

"This is where you live, Pam?"

"Isn't it sweet?" Pam smiled broadly. "I love it here. It's so tidy."

"There's a golf course, Pam."

"I know. Isn't it grand?" Pam seemed genuinely excited. "I love it. You should see my outfits."

"You play golf?"

"Eric and I used to play a lot, until you came around." Pam said deadpan, and then laughed. "You're not so bad, though."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Most of the time you're just sitting there drawing and a helluva lot of the time you're useful." Shrugging, Pam said, "You smell good too, so it's not so bad."

"Well, Pam, that's the best compliment I've ever received from another woman."

"If I had a chance to lure you into bed, I could do better, but there's that death thing again." Pam started laughing as she pulled into her garage, and Carly couldn't help but follow along.

"You're too much, Pam."

Pam's garage was immaculately clean and very well-organized, especially immediately next to the entrance to the living space. Pam had an "undressing station" with a bench, hangers, and shoe boxes, along with slippers that she could change into to move into the house.

Pam handed Carly a pair of fuzzy socks. "You'll have to take off your shoes and put these on. I've got white carpet. And hang your purse on the rack so we don't forget it."

Carly changed out of her shoes and put on the fluffy socks with little non-skid strips on the bottom.

When the door was open, Carly saw why Pam would be so meticulous on the garage. Everything inside the house was either white, powder blue, or pink. It was beautiful, but somewhat surreal. Most of the furniture looked as if it was about twenty to thirty years old—it was as if Carly were walking into a life-sized version of "Vampire Barbie's" penthouse.

"I don't have anything for humans to consume except water," Pam said off-handedly.

"I'm good, Pam. And I'd be afraid to drink anything other than water." Carly couldn't understand how a vampire could manage to live in such pristine surroundings. "Pam, this is a stupid question, but how do you manage this? Wouldn't you get blood everywhere?"

"Ew, Carly. No."

"But, how do you eat?"

Pam smirked, "I never thought you'd ask, Carly. I eat out."

"Funny." Carly winked at Pam and responded with disbelief. "Always? You never wake up hungry and want a True Blood?"

"I never want a True Blood—ever. But I've never fed where I slept." Pam shrugged. "It was different when I lived with Eric, but we haven't shared a home in forty years."

"Okay. Well, I'm impressed, Pam, because this place is absolutely immaculate."

"I like things to be nice, and I'm not a slob." Pam put her hand on her hip and said, "Unless you want me to dictate a Vampire's Tips for Housekeeping, let's try on some clothes."

Pam led Carly into the narrow hallway where a bathroom separated two bedrooms. The smaller of the two bedrooms had a bed that looked intended for a little girl obsessed with princesses. The other, larger room, was one big closet and dressing room, complete with wrap-around mirror and a wall of shoes.

Astonished, Carly said, "You take wardrobe very seriously, Pam."

"Yes, and this is just what's in season. I have storage for everything else." Pam smiled. "Isn't it wonderful? This is the best part of the Great Revelation."

"You get to shop freely?"

"You know it, baby."

The two women smiled at each other and laughed.

Pam said, "You first."

"Whatever you say, although you're going to be the main attraction, Pam. I'm just wallpaper."

"Nonsense. You're going to be at Eric's feet, so you should look good enough to eat." Pam giggled. "I think you need to be wearing red, don't you think?

Taking a minute to process what Pam said, "At his feet? Like a puppy dog?"

"I need to keep my mouth shut and let him talk about this. But you should wear red." Pam started sorting through her color-coded clothing.

Carly took a deep breath and tried to think about how the scene would unfold at Fangtasia the next night. Eric would be sitting in his "throne" with Pam behind him, much as they were posed in the portrait, and then Carly would be...

"What do you have, Pam, with harem pants?"

"Ooohh, Pam intoned, that would be good." Zipping around the room at full speed, Pam started pulling outfits out and tossing them onto a bench. Once three or four covered the white settee, Pam returned and started describing them. "Red silk pantsuit—very chic."

Pam held up a "pantsuit" that seemed to be more like a hooker's outfit: tight, fitted red silk top with a mandarin collar and cap sleeves with a set of low-slung trousers.

"Purple also suits you." This marvel had to be from the 1970s, since it had a high collar on a halter top that was cut down below the bust and tight-fitting trousers that were slit at the knee.

Carly responded positively to it, despite its dated appearance. "I kind of like that one. I could pull my hair up tight and look like a Bond girl. What do you think?"

"Try it on!"

Retreating behind a screen for a little privacy, Carly changed into the outfit, although she realized quickly that she'd need to modify her undergarments, perhaps even going without any kind of bra at all, which made her very uncomfortable.

Pam called from the other side of the room, "I have some of those paste-on cups. Let me find them for you."

"Are you reading minds, now, Pam?" Carly chuckled. "I was just thinking about how weird it would be to go without a bra in this."

"I feel the same way, Carly. But I was raised with corsets—still prefer something boned to these flimsy, stretchy things you find now."

"Are you telling another dirty joke, Pam, because this one didn't work as well."

"Now who's being funny, Carly?" Pam harrumphed.

"Well, if you can't beat them, sit at their feet, right?" If she had to embrace the role of passive slave girl for the sake of Eric's reputation on opening night, then she would go all the way with it, but she thought that she probably wouldn't become a regular at Fangtasia.

As she emerged from behind the screen, Pam gave a wolf-whistle that would have made a stevedore proud. "Perfect!"

"Okay. Since I've got my Princess Leia at the belly of Jabba the Hut outfit, it's your turn."

"Do you want me to tell Eric you called him that?"

"No. No.." Carly blanched. "That's not what I meant. That's just how I felt—not that he was Jabba..." Carly sighed, "Shit, this isn't going to be easy, Pam. How do you keep from mouthing off about this stuff?"

"I'm a vampire." Pam winked at Carly. "I don't have to be at his feet."

Suddenly, Carly felt inspiration. "You know what? I'm a fucking valkyrie. I'm not going to sit at his feet. Or at least—I'm not going to look like I'm chained to him."

"Do you need another outfit, then?"

Carly giggled, "No, I look sexy in this one, don't I?"

"Yeah. You do. But what are you going to do?"

"I'll worry about that tomorrow, but I might be bringing in a little furniture, or at least a rug." If she was able to work through her idea, Eric wouldn't mind at all. He'd be just as amused as she would be. "I just need to get there before you open."

"Sounds to me like Eric expects to bring you himself."

"Well, he'll have a chance to vote it up or down, then." Carly clapped her hands together, "So now let's get you all vamped up."

"I already have them picked out." Pam brought down three outfits: one long dress, one short, and one with leather capri pants. They were all black.

"Okay...get to it, Pam."

"Which first?"

"Pants, because I think I'm going to like them least."

Pam grunted in agreement. "Let's just toss them out, because I'm not crazy about them either."

First, Pam tried on the short dress, which reminded Carly of an outfit from _Blade Runner_: a overly structured black dress that seemed too intent to recall the 1940s with broad shoulders and pointed hips.

"I don't like it, Pam." Carly shook her head. "It makes you look like Grace Jones."

Pam changed into the long gown, and Carly said, "Perfect for opening night."

Pam's expression was pure hatred. "I knew you'd say that. You're gonna dress me like fucking Morticia, aren't you?"

"Well?"

"Yeah, audience expectations, right?" Pam glowered at Carly. "If I looked pissed, will that make me seem scarier?"

"I'm terrified right now, Pam." Carly smiled and giggled a little.

"Bitch."

After changing back into her original outfit, Pam said, "Now you need shoes."

"No shoes, Pam. I'll go barefoot."

"Bullshit, Carly, you need shoes."

"Trust me, Pam."

Pointing toward the wall, Pam said, "Have you seen my shoes, Carly? Don't you understand what I'm offering you?"

"I'm not good in heels, Pam. I'll fall down. Or I'll break a heel." Carly remembered one occasion where she'd gone to a gala with her Uncle Benjamin in a beautiful pair of expensive heels. By the end of the evening, one strap was ripped and one heel was broken off.

Pam looked at Carly as if she's offered to kill one of her children."Go without then. I don't want you breaking mine."

After packing up Carly's outfit and conferring about hair and makeup—Pam insisted on doing Carly's for her at the club—they departed for the guest house. As Pam had suggested earlier in the evening, Eric was already there.

"Do you want to come in and say hi, Pam."

Pam replied, "No. I'll let you two lovebirds be disgusting. Tell him I'll see him tomorrow and he better look the part too."

Enjoying this new-found kinship with Pam, Carly said, "I'll make sure he's wearing the cape and cravat."

"Smart-ass, Carly."

"It's Dr. Smart-ass to you, Pam." Giggling again, "Thanks a lot for loaning me the outfit."

"You can keep it. I don't do harem girl, anyway."

"No, you don't Pam."

With one last parting smile, Pam drove away. Before Carly was even at the door, Eric had it open and had a glass of champagne extended toward her. "I have a surprise, Carly."

Taking the flute from him, Carly asked, "Do I have to close my eyes?"

Eric was about to answer, when Carly realized there was another vampire in the house. "Did you bring someone back with you, Eric?"

"So much for my surprise." Eric sighed.

"Who is it?"

Smiling again, Eric said, "I forgot you can't tell who it is. Come inside, and I'll introduce you."

Carly scanned the main living space and didn't see anyone. Looking at Eric, she shrugged her shoulders and asked, "Where is he?"

"He's looking at the cellar. Come meet him." Eric's smile was effusive, so Carly presumed that she was about to meet someone Eric cared deeply for, and she was frightened that she would soon be displaced, just as Pam had suggested to her.

Once they began to descend the stairs, Carly could see a somewhat small figure seated in the center of their bed. The moment she saw his posture, Carly whispered, "Godric?"

Excited and nearly uncontainable, Eric said, "Yes, Carly, may I present my maker to you. Godric, this beautiful creature is my Carly."

As Godric turned, Carly relieved her dream of Eric's making. The imp who'd perched himself on Eric's chest now stood before her, fully-dressed in jeans and a white Guayabera shirt. He couldn't have been more than twenty when he'd been transformed, and he was more likely to have been fifteen or sixteen. As Carly ran the probabilities in her mind, she realized he'd most likely been a nobleman and a warrior, perhaps even a significant leader at the time of his death.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Carly. I've heard a great deal about you the last few weeks."

His pale face, which combined the smoothness of youth with the wisdom of overpowering age, transfixed her as he spoke. Realizing that Eric expected a response, Carly finally blurted out, "I'm so happy that you'll be the king."

"Why, Carly?"

"Because I know you have always made good choices." Carly's response was so incoherent, that Eric seemed a little taken aback by it.

Godric, on the other hand, seemed nonplussed. "If you're referring to my progeny, I would say that I did make an excellent choice, the best choice. But, alas, Carly, with two thousand years behind me, I have a catalog of poor choices that follow me."

Carly blushed in embarrassment and looked to Eric for guidance, but he seemed still. Closing her eyes to gather herself, she realized that despite Godric's appearance, he was Eric's father and that she owed him that respect. She lowered her head and said, "Please, sir, forgive me. I've been too forward. I'm honored to meet you."

Godric raised her chin and said, "I am equally honored to meet you. Perhaps you do not realize it, Carly, but you bear a remarkable resemblance to your father."

The statement hit her like a freight-train, and she lost her balance slightly. Eric caught her before her equilibrium became too disturbed. "My father?"

A serene smile spread across Godric's face. "Yes, it took quite a bit of timing on my part to convince him to give Eric to me." Godric smiled at his son, whose look of shock matched Carly's. "Yes, we stalked you simultaneously, Eric, but I convinced him to take your companions instead of you. Of course, he said that I would owe him a debt."

Eric's disbelief manifested itself, "You never said anything?"

"And what, dear child, would I have said?" Godric dropped his head down toward his shoulder. "Would you have liked to know that Tiwabealu stalked you as I did? That the son of Brunhilda also wished to claim you as his own? Would you have spurned my offer had you known?"

"No," Eric responded quickly.

"Even if you thought Valhalla awaited?"

Eric hesitated slightly, and Godric said, "The valkyries would have convinced you that Odin's hospitality awaited you, and you would have died rather than accept my proposition."

Sinking to his knees, Eric said, "I am grateful you won your contest of wills, master."

"As am I, Eric." Godric turned to Carly and said, "I apologize Carly, but since I've agreed to support my progeny as his king, I fear I must start eating more often. I'm very hungry. Would you feed me?"

Eric popped to his feet. "Godric, I told you what happened to Sophie-Ann and Andre, and what I promised Carly."

"Carly may offer willingly, or reject my request. It makes no difference to me. Since she brings you great happiness, I wish her a long and happy life." Godric looked back toward Carly, "But she is a glass of champagne that sits among glasses of water."

Tentatively, Carly said, "I will do whatever you want, Eric, although the risk frightens me. I wouldn't want to hurt him or you."

"You would let him feed from you, Carly?" Eric asked.

"Only because he's your maker, and he loves you."

"Vampires don't love, Carly." Eric shook his head vehemently.

Smiling, Carly said, "I've heard that." She touched Eric's cheek. "But I've also heard other things, and I feel other things."

Everything that emanated from Godric was serene, although an undercurrent of loss and despair also lingered in the air. Carly was about to consent to it, until a strange thought crossed her mind.

"Godric, you knew Latin, didn't you?"

"Yes, although it wasn't my mother tongue. Why the change of subject?"

"There's a phrase in Latin, isn't there? Tedium vitae. Isn't that what it is?"

Godric's serenity evaporated, and a small ripple of anger, ever so subtle, rumbled through her. Godric made a loud noise as he inhaled, "Yes. And you sense that from me?"

Carly looked at Eric, who seemed as horrified at the suggestion that Godric might be suicidal. She replied as compassionately as she could, "Yes, I do. Even though you've agreed to be king, you're tired of living, aren't you?"

Godric sat back down on the bed and, looking up at his progeny, said, "You have done extraordinarily well, Eric. I apologize for risking your happiness with her. It was reckless."

"Master?" Eric's voice became the voice of a frightened little boy.

"She's right, Eric. Life has been unsatisfying, probably for the last sixty years, if not the last century." Godric's eyes became distant. "Human suffering has always been great, because of aging, disease, violence. But what I've witnessed I the last century...what I've lost...what everyone has lost. It's difficult to bear. You and your sister are my only connection to this world. Yet, I only feel a connection to you, Eric."

"So you've taken this on just for me?" Eric squirmed with the realization.

"When you told me what Carly learned—that Russell Edgington was the wolf-master—how could I do otherwise? How could I let you suffer with him as your sovereign? Or let him annex your area? We sought him together for so long—and the things that he did during the war and even before. Now that you know it is he, I can only help you win your revenge and move on with your existence."

Eric prostrated himself before Godric, and Carly didn't know what to do. She backed herself up against the wall, because she felt she should kneel beside Eric, but didn't know if that would be right.

"Thank you, master, father, brother." Eric's voice had the quality of an incantation.

"Son, father, brother." Godric repeated. "Carly?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Please, Carly, call me Godric." Touching Eric's head and caressing it, Godric said, "Eric will always revert to his earliest self when around me. To him, I am his chieftain, and he treats me thus. But please call me Godric, although, as his bonded, you must kneel with Eric in public—in fact..."

"I will teach her, Godric." Eric looked at Carly with visible anxiety.

"I know that I have to sit at Eric's feet in public. Do I prostrate myself before you, Godric?"

"Yes, Carly. I fear you must." Godric's eyes were sorrowful. "As proud a creature as you should not need to, but we must also conceal what you are from the rest of the world."

"I know." Carly shook her head. "I'll follow whatever protocol is necessary." She added, "But, please know, I feel you are worthy of every show of respect I can offer, as well as all compassion I can give."

"Thank you, Carly."

Carly yawned. "I apologize, Godric, but are you going to sleep here tonight?"

"Can I take you home with me, Carly?" Eric asked.

"Sure. Let me just gather some things."

As Carly rose on the stairs, she wondered how she'd known that Godric was passively suicidal. As she thought back, she couldn't pinpoint any one thing. His mind was so still, so silent, but still, something seemed amiss. He seemed so alienated, so distant, so disengaged. Perhaps that was it. She'd seen him in her dream, and, despite being a vampire, he was full of life. In Eric's stories, Godric always found a way to live artfully. The man she met tonight was a shadow, willing to fulfill his duty toward his son, but without any joy in its doing. While she doubted she could do anything to renew that joy, she believed that Eric could engage him—perhaps not entertain him—but certainly reunite him with life.

She knew Dallas could be boring, but why was it deadly?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

When Carly awoke by Eric's side at two at the afternoon the next day, she lay awake, holding his still body, for about forty-five minutes before she got out of bed. Although they'd been together for most of the night and even past dawn, they'd clung to each other. Eric seemed hungrier for her, in both ways, than he generally was, and his desperation to connect to her frightened Carly a little bit. Partially, her fear came from the fact that their passionate lovemaking hadn't awakened any magic in her as she expected it might given the intensity Eric had, but that might have been because Eric fed from her multiple times, before and after sex. Perhaps he feared for his maker, or perhaps his anxiety about opening night was manifesting itself, but he'd made love to her and fed from her as if he sought solace and distraction, not with the same playful joy he usually had.

So Carly rose tired, sore, hungry, and a little irritable. Since Eric had begun to allow Carly to sleep over at his home, he'd put in a "light lock" in his bedroom, so that Carly could move about the house freely during the day. After showering and eating, and drinking an outrageous amount of the "Beef, Iron, and Wine" tonic an elderly co-worker purchased for her, who went to the library to read until the two vampires awakened. Whenever she slept there, Carly spent the daytime reading obscure volumes that she found in Eric's collection.

This day, Carly chose to read a 18th century version of Caesar's Gallic wars in the hopes that a discussion of the period, specifically in Gaul, might give Carly some insight into Godric's earliest human days. Perhaps the reason for his despair had its root there on the battlefields where Romans and Celts fought for supremacy. Despite her sincerest efforts, the prose style of the piece as it narrated the siege warfare methods of the Galli and the Belgi began to drain her intellectual stamina, which was already hard-pressed after her sexual calisthenics with Eric the night before and her blood loss. As she read the twentieth page for the fourth time, she felt herself drifting off to sleep, asking what does Godric have to do with Caesar?

Although Carly lay on the leather couch in the library, she was comfortable, and the cool temperature of the tanned flesh against her face gave her the same feeling she got by lying against Eric's cool skin. Within a few minutes of falling sound asleep, she slipped into the fog of a dream, cool evening fog that stretched across a rolling landscape and obscured the soft hills and the deep green grasses from the short rays of the setting sun. She felt heavy, weighted down by the moisture of the air, and the fragrance of the plants around her. Carly smelled lavender, wild thyme, and honeysuckles. She followed the fragrance between two hillocks where a trail seemed to lead. As she maneuvered between the hills, she heard a soft padding sound that increased in speed as it approached. She began to turn, but wound up face down on her belly, with sharp edges piercing her flesh. Rough hands rolled her to facing, but only after she felt her arm partially severed. While the pain didn't trouble her dream, the sound of a boyish voice did send a wave of fear through her: "I'll drink from your skull, centurion." The vision of Godric's eyes, and the sensation of a blade at her throat coincided, and she awoke briefly.

Carly turned to pull an afghan over her exposed legs and the sudden warmth lulled her back to unconsciousness. Images passed through her mind: fog, fires, a grinding stone covered in a thick blue paste, flint knives cutting into skin, and another, silkier, more dangerous voice: "You are wise, strong, full of life, and have fought valiantly. I choose you to be my companion. If you accept, you will live forever. If you reject me, you will feed the ravens and wolves."

Ravens flew into her consciousness, and she followed them out of her dream until they perched outside a window on a fence in a painfully flat place, where the moon held a high place in the sky, but there were no shadows. A thumping bass drum was audible from the window, and she saw Godric, through the raven's eyes, sitting in a beautifully appointed room among four other vampires, all attended by human companions, although a few of the companions looked as if they were being paid for their services, sexual and otherwise.

Pale, still, and distant, Godric rose to look at the raven. Without seeing Godric's lips move, Carly heard: "Now, you will never feed on me. Now, no benefit comes from my existence."

Aloft on smooth black wings, Carly found herself circling a chimney, really, just a hole that descended through sod into a chamber. Following the smoke back down to its source, the raven—Carly's dreaming mind—flew into the cavern, where she became a winged woman.

"You join us in your own form, Carly?" The cauldron stirring woman spoke with praise in her voice.

"Is this my form?" Carly heard herself ask as she looked at the people in the room, who, as she looked at them, transformed into an unkindness of ravens that swirled around the cave at speeds that increased into a vortex. With sudden force, the ravens caught fire, and the fire disaggregated itself and transformed again into pillars of smoke from which the bodies of the ancestors that she recognized emerged.

"We have many forms, Carly, as do you, although you are bound to one in waking. But your dreams and visions will carry you anywhere."

"Can I help Eric save Godric?"

Laughter, cruel and murderous, rose to shake the glistening walls.

"He forgets what it is to be a vampire, so perhaps Eric will remind him. But he must surrender the idea that he can be more than a vampire."

"Why are there vampires, ancestors?" Carly felt her wings flapping slowly as she asked the question.

"For the same reason we exist. We feed on death before it scars the world. They are the lions of their own kind—but they are also memory."

"Memory?"

"The memory that things as they were and things as they will be..."

Her wings lifted her, and she shrank back to the size of bird and rose on the stream of hot air and awakened as Eric brushed his cheek against her own.

"Good evening, lover," Eric whispered. "You are asleep outside of my bed?"

Carly stretched and groaned. "I was reading about Caesar."

"No wonder you were sleeping." Eric's smile was like a school-boy's. "You should ask Godric for the first-hand account."

"I will." Carly kissed Eric's lips firmly. "How did you rest?"

"Like the dead."

"You and Pam just think you're funny, don't you two?" Carly stood so that she could wrap her arms around his waist. "Seriously, though, you wore me out last night. Are you still anxious?"

Eric backed up half a step, reflexively and then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "No. But thank you. I was probably pretty rough on you last night." His voice sounded almost guilty.

"A little bit," Carly said, quickly adding, "but I didn't mind it a little rough. It still felt amazing."

"But I shouldn't have sex with you so I don't have to think about other things." Eric took her hand and then picked up the book to reshelve it. "I was thinking too much about Godric and not enough about you." He kissed her hand.

"I get it." Carly tried to express as much compassion as she could for Eric, the vampire she'd committed herself to, even though she lacked any mechanism by which to do so within an ideological framework, such as the state or a religious order. "Where is he?"

"In the shower." Eric grinned suddenly. "We need to get you dressed properly."

"Can we talk about how tonight will work?"

"Sure."

Carly knew that the first guests at Fangtasia would be the Shreveport area vampires, but now that Godric was here, she anticipated something else to happen.

"Is Godric going to be presented as king here tonight?"

"You're too smart, Carly." Eric brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. "The Magister will announce that Godric has taken the throne. All the sheriffs will be there, and then Godric will travel to each of their districts. He will have pride of place on stage tonight. The Magister will sit to his right. I will be on his left, Pam will stand behind me, and you will have to..."

"...be at your feet. I know, Eric. Don't worry."

Eric looked at her searchingly. "You're not offended?"

Carly laughed. "There are advantages to being with an anthropologist. You're part of a rigidly hierarchical society that uses dominance and submission as the major vectors of inter-group relationships. I'm part of the oppressed group, so I have to act submissive around your peers, even if you, or Godric, view me as someone with whom you might be able to have a more egalitarian relationship."

"Are you going to write a paper about tonight?"

Grinning, Carly said, "If I could, I would, but I know that I shouldn't, so I won't." She added, "I will get to learn a lot about negotiations of power from tonight. But, even more, vampires probably know more about humans than humans do. I'll get to hang around anthropologists with a greater longitudinal perspective than we have with 150 years of formal anthropology, only fifty of which hasn't been explicitly racist and colonialist."

Eric picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, and Carly yelped. "Well, Professor Michael, I feel compelled to give you a little demonstration about dominance right now, if you don't mind?"

Rushing back to the bedroom, Eric tossed her onto the bed and threw himself on top of her. The whole time, she giggled like a schoolgirl, and he tickled her. After about ten minutes of gasping, screaming, and laughing, Godric walked into the room, fully dressed, but still somewhat damp from the shower.

"Your methods of seduction have changed, Eric." Godric had a small smile on his face.

Eric stopped torturing Carly with his light touches and turned to give Godric his full attention. "I have adapted quickly to Carly's needs, master." Eric still smiled and added, "And she to mine, I'll assure you."

Carly sensed Eric's arousal and excitement and reasoned that the two of them had shared innumerable women over their thousand years together, and Carly couldn't imagine jumping into that pool. "I apologize, Godric, but I didn't let you have time with Eric. Would the two of you like to be alone?"

Turning and caging her in his long limbs, Eric said, "I'm thinking the answer would be no, lover. Perhaps we could all spend some time together."

Godric took a few steps toward the bed, but maintained the same blank look.

"Eric," Carly spoke calmly and affectionately, "I know you have history—lots of it—but I'm not ready to be a notch on that belt. I love you, and feed you, and fuck you, but only you. If you want time to be with Godric—and I'd guess you probably already have when you were in Dallas—I will not complain, but I don't think I could participate."

Kissing her on the forehead, and then on the lips, Eric said, "I'm sorry. I'm falling into old habits, Carly." He raised her up to a sitting position and moved her onto his lap. "I have to be careful."

Walking quickly and stooping so that his head was immediately next to Carly's, Godric leaned down, and kissed Eric lightly on the lips. "My child, pleasure seldom comes to me these days, but I find pleasure seeing your happiness and the respect you have for each other." Godric turned his head in the other direction and kissed Carly, "You are remarkable, Carly. I admire you for your calm and for honor. You belong to Eric, and I would not feel right about sharing you. You are one of the few humans I've met who is a true being and not a commodity."

"Thank you, Godric." Carly took his cheek and kissed him in return, and then slipped out of Eric's embrace. "I have to get ready, but take as much time with each other as you'd like to have."

Carly retreated back into the library and sat cross-legged on the floor breathing deeply and exhaling completely to keep her composure. If anyone had asked her three months ago, "What would do you do when your partner's former homosexual lover came to visit, she probably wouldn't have said, 'Leave them alone so they can fool around and get reacquainted.'"

Of course, she'd misjudged Eric before, so she didn't want to presume she knew what they were doing, although she was grown up enough to admit that she'd fantasized a little about it while they'd talked to each other last night. But Godric was so youthful, so small in comparison to Eric, that she couldn't quite imagine Eric in the submissive position he must certainly have played in relations with his maker. She was fascinated, and turned on hot as hell, but she wouldn't do anything to disturb the balance that she and Eric had found.

After five or ten minutes, the two men emerged from the bedroom, still fully dressed, and now only Carly had to put on her costume for the evening.

Eric walked up behind her and pressed his legs against her back, "Are you ready to dress?"

Popping up, even though she was still worn out, Carly said, "Yep." She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, but Eric drew her in for a longer, more passionate kiss. Then he whispered in her ear, "I appreciate your understanding, Carly, but I haven't and won't be sleeping with Godric. He's sworn off sex."

"You're worried, aren't you?"

"Of course. He doesn't have a calling, like Jean-Jacques or the Magister; there's no reason for him to be celibate, unless he's tired of living." Eric kissed her again and then turned to stand behind her so that he could smack her lightly on the bottom. "You're holding up our departure, little girl."

Carly went back into Eric's room and changed into the purple jumpsuit, with one small addition to the outfit. As a joke, Eric had bought her a tiny gold, sequined bikini that was just microscopic. Her idea was to choreograph an "odalisque" tableau, where she stretched out on the floor in front of Eric, Godric, and Pam, after stripping off the purple jumpsuit and the gold top. No one in the audience would see her breasts, just their contours. She didn't mind the vampires she knew appreciating the view, and she understood that the display would do the same thing that odalisques and odalisque paintings did for the Sultan and for the collectors of Orientalist art—it would enhance their status within their community and prove that they had something that others didn't. She grabbed a pair of tiny moccasins she'd bought in Albuquerquee years ago—little ballet shoes really—and planned to take them off along with everything else.

She grabbed a sheepskin Eric draped over a living room chair and a large red pillow and demonstrated her intent to the two vampires.

Eric's smile was broad and self-satisfied. "Carly, you are a naughty, naughty little minx. It will be terrific, although you should know that I put the police chief and the ME on the VIP list."

"Once I'm down there, no one should see my face." Carly shrugged and added, "And so what if they do. I see crazy things and I'm practically living with a vampire. What's a little public nudity?"

Since Eric maintained the "topless liquor license" he acquired with the previous club, Carly wouldn't be breaking any laws, even though the go-go dancers at Fangtasia wouldn't be losing their shirts until liquor service stopped at 2am. Eric wanted some incentive to keep humans in the club until it closed at 4am.

They loaded up a Lincoln that Eric drove every once and a while with Carly's props and the three of them drove to the club. When they entered, Carly waited to see if there was a protocol. As she suspected, Godric went in first, then Eric, and she followed, hearing Eric's whispered apology. Since no one was there except for Pam, the employees, and the other sheriffs, Carly quickly set up the sheepskin and pillow in the position that Eric specified, where Carly would be positioned on a diagonal so that all four vampires could see her, but the audience would only get the rear view, just as in the famous odalisque paintings. With the right gestures, her pantsuit would fall straight off, and she could step straight out of it.

When the Magister arrived, she asked Eric, "Do I drop my outfit standing in front of Godric, the Magister, or you?"

Eric stiffened slightly and said, "It would be most appropriate if you undressed in front of Godric, so that the audience thought you were doing it for the king."

The Magister tapped his cane on the floor and said, "It's show-time, boys and girls." He turned to Godric and said, "Are you ready to be presented, your majesty?"

"Yes." Godric's voice had no inflection—just quiet serenity.

The three chairs were arranged so that Godric's—the "throne" where Eric would sit most nights—was about ten steps from the edge of the stage. Carly presumed the sheriff's would have to come up and offer some gesture of fealty to Godric. The other two chairs were one step to the rear of his on either side. Carly also presumed the sheriff's would jump onto the stage, but Pam agreed to lift her when her turn came. As the only "bonded human" in the crowd, she owed Godric the same fealty as his vampires and had to agree to follow all vampire laws.

The Magister stepped onto the stage and banged his cane against the floor as if it were a gavel. "Vampires of Louisiana, tonight you meet your new king and pledge yourselves to him. I present to you your sovereign lord, Godric, known to humans as Godfrey de Gaulle."

Godric walked onto the stage and nodded at all of the attending vampires, who all knelt before him. The Magister knelt differently, first kissing him on the cheek. Godric raised the Magister to his feet, kissed his cheek, and then knelt before him. The Magister raised him up again, they embraced, and moved to their seats.

"My friends and sheriffs, I come to rule Louisiana as a healer, to the scars left behind by Sophie-Ann's cupidity. The soil of Louisiana grows rich crops, its rocks yield oil and gas, its rivers give us fish and trade, but Louisiana has been neglected. The vampire who should have been a steward for this state, who should have held the memory of its greatness, abandoned her duties and sought only to enrich herself. In this new age of cooperation with humans, I wish for Louisiana to become a model of what can be. Come before me, sheriffs, friends, subjects, and pledge to share in this work."

Carly had never seen a monarch exercise power, but the moral authority with which Godric spoke touched her, and she reached out to squeeze Eric's hand before he approached as the first of the sheriffs to pledge himself.

Kneeling before Godric, Eric laid first his hand and then his head upon Godric's lap. "I vow to serve you until I meet the True Death."

Godric gently touched Eric's head and said "Rise, my child, and join me."

The other three sheriffs followed suit, as did Pam, Longshadow, and a few other vampires who were there for other reasons. When their pledges ended, Eric nodded to Carly who discarded her shoes, and moved to the center of the room to stand before Godric. Since she knew something about investiture rituals and oaths, she decided she was going to outdo the vampires. Before she reached the edge of the stage, she sank to her knees and prostrated herself before Godric. She waited on her belly until she heard him speak.

"Rise and come before me to pledge your fealty as the bonded companion of my child, Eric Northman."

With her eyes pointed toward the floor, Carly came to the edge of the stage and raised her arms. Pam came to her and helped to haul her to the stage. She repeated the procedure she'd done on the lower floor and waited until Godric said, "You may approach to give your oath."

Carly sank again to her knees, extended both wrists and exposed her neck. "I pledge my fealty to you, my king, as the bonded companion of Eric Northman."

Without warning, Godric's fangs popped out, and he turned to Eric and said, "May I feed upon your bonded companion, Eric Northman, to fortify me as I take on my responsibilities for the vampires and humans of the state of Louisiana?"

Eric's eyes showed tremendous fear, and he looked at Carly for some affirmation. She nodded slightly, because she felt nothing but determination in Godric. He had no intention of abdicating his responsibilitiess that night, and he did want her to live, so it would be safe—she thought—for him to take her blood. When Eric nodded, Godric grasped Carly's wrist and sank his teeth deep into it, sucking out mouthfuls of blood. The pain was excruciating, and Carly winced and wept quietly. After licking the wound dry, Godric spoke again.

"Wear that scar as a sign of your loyalty to me and your honor to your master, Carly Michael." Turning to the audience, Godric added, "This woman represents the best that humanity has to offer us. Choose your companions wisely my friends. Turn only those to whom you are called. From this point forward, all vampires who wish to turn a human must seek my blessing and my consent before doing so." With an ominous tone, he concluded, "The blood is sacred. Any who defile it, or share it lightly, will suffer the consequences. Vampires are not enjoined to be fruitful and multiple. We do not breed like flies on a carcass. We are predators, but also shepherds. There should be only one in any flock."

Carly knelt on the floor through Godric's speech, overwhelmed still by the pain that lingered in her wrist. None of Eric's bites had ever felt that way and not even Sophie-Ann's and Andre's had been as painful, and she was afraid of what that pain signified. Godric didn't seem cruel—although she knew he'd formulated the elaborate punishment for Christophe, which he seemed now to regret.

Finally, Godric said, "Eric, does your companion have any other gift for us?" After the bite, Carly felt more reticent about taking off all her clothes on stage. Nonetheless, when Eric nodded again and said, "Yes, your majesty, she does," Carly stood and slipped off her shoes. She took one step backward from Godric so that she could have more room to maneuver and undid the halter fastening and the fastening at her waist. When she let go of them both, her outfit fell to the floor, revealing the gold swim suit. She could see the Magister's appreciation, as she could see Pam and Eric's, in her peripheral vision, but no reaction from Godric. She undid the bikini top and dropped it to the floor, revealing her breasts, which incited the Magister to slow clapping, which Godric halted with a sharply raised hand. When all her clothing was off, she gently pushed it toward her perch. Godric looked her up and down and then said, "Carly, your mind is even more beautiful than your body. Thank you for displaying both to me. Please rest and enjoy your master's company."

Stepping toward the sheepskin, Carly bent her knees and kept her back as straight as possible, so that she might elegantly extend herself across the sheepskin, and put her head gently on the oversized pillow. When she'd made herself comfortable, she reached up, and embraced Eric's stretched-out leg. She drew her left arm over her head, so that the curve of her breast, although not the rest of it, would be visible from the audience, and she closed her eyes.

Once she was completely reclined, Godric began another round of applause for her, which spread across the room. Although her wrist hurt, and she was exhausted, Carly was grateful that Godric enjoyed her "performance art." First the clapping, and then the loud music kept her awake, but once the bar opened, she relaxed and lowered her resistance to external minds and began listening in, primarily to look for the local officials who might recognize her.

Allowing her mind to float through the crowd as if it were a a red and white float attached to a fishing line, Carly's awareness tumbled through the crowd. Most of the club-goers in attendance for opening night were coming to Fangtasia in the same way that families might go to the zoo on a Saturday afternoon to see poisonous snakes. Sprinkled through the crowd, vampire-obsessed goths who desperately wanted to be fed upon or fucked by vampires trolled for hungry vampires who wanted something more substantial than True Blood. Although Carly had a lesson or two to offer these insecure, barely of age, clubbers, she couldn't blame them for their longing to spend time with vampires. For young men and women with few opportunities for travel or education, stuck in low-paying jobs, living in their own "nests" with multiple roommates or still with their parents, vampires offered an impossibly attractive escape.

As Carly's mind pin-balled from one "fangbanger" to another, Carly hit upon a V-dealer who was keeping track of both the vampires and the potential addicts throughout the crowd. She reached up Eric's leg and grasped his knee.

When Eric looked down at her, she traced a "V" onto his knee. In response, he leaned toward Godric, exchanged a few inaudible words, and then stooped down to Carly. Grasping the wrist Godric had bitten, Eric raised her to a standing position, where she found herself uncomfortably wobbly, and then scooped her up along with her clothing in one smooth movement, where she was able to cuddle into him and obscure her face and chest. In a self-conscious show of vampire speed and agility, Eric zoomed into his office with her in his arms.

When he closed the door, Eric first picked her up to give her an impassioned kiss. "You're fucking amazing, Carly. I can't believe you did that." He twirled her around in his arms. "I could keep you in here for hours if I didn't have to take care of that asshole. Can you find him?"

"If you set me down," Carly said somewhat sadly, "I can draw you a picture of him." The dealer was so narcissistic, his own appearance was one of his primary concerns. Carly quickly sketched him out—the blond, athletic build and chiseled face—and gave Eric his name as well: Brian McCarthy.

"The door team might remember who he is as well. They're scanning IDs." Eric had purchased a hand-held scanner that collected the names and addresses of everyone who entered the bar that was to be used on nights when humans worked the door. Eric felt confident that the vampires could keep track of names long enough to enter them in a log. Intent on keeping his area free from drainers and dealers, Eric wanted to know exactly who was in his bar, when they arrived, and when they left.

While Carly anticipated protests, no one said a word, because demand for entrance was so high. Within half an hour of opening, they'd already reached capacity, and a line went down the street.

"Let me get this out to Pam, and then the two of us can corner him." Eric smirked. "I'll be excited to give him a back-door tour and then turn him over to our friendly narcotics detectives."

Since the anticipated "V"-trafficking ring dissolved with Christophe's death, Eric hadn't been able to glamour any dealers who would then confess to methamphetamine trafficking, as per the arrangement they'd made with the chief of police and the district attorney.

"If you get dressed," Eric drew her close, "then I'll have less temptation when I'm done." He kissed her again. "Do you want to go out there and demonstrate what a bonded companion does for her vampire?"

"And his friends?" Carly added with a smirk.

"Oh, yes." Eric caressed her briefly and then said, "I'd love it if you got everyone dancing."

Even though she felt somewhat weak, Carly still could admit that she found the whole scenario exciting—she got to play the role of "fantasy human" in the romanticized story the fangbangers were telling themselves. "Can I invite Pam down to dance?"

Eric's smile was perfectly devilish. "Oh, lover, that would be a great deal of fun."

"Will she play along?"

"We might have some difficulty keeping her from trying to win the game." He kissed her deeply one more time. "Dress and get out there."

Within seconds, he was out the door. Carly dressed and opened a closet door that concealed a full-length mirror. The gold from the bikini top peeked through the v-neck of the halter top and lingered across her back. For the first time in her life, Carly enjoyed the thought of playing the sexual object, not just for Eric, but for the whole crowd.

Once back in the bar, Carly noticed that the crowd parted as she walked through, and the twenty or so vampires sprinkled through the crowd nodded in appreciation as she walked past. Over the last few weeks, she'd met almost all of them, and they were a mixed bag of characters. By far, her favorite, apart from the Magister, was Thalia, a tiny Greek vampire who was even older than Godric. Every time Carly encountered the surly and self-protective vampire, Carly managed to ask her exactly one question about her ancient culture. Finally, Carly suggested, off-handedly, that Thalia should accompany her and Eric to New York to the opening of Abdullah's show of vampire art, just so they could go through the Metropolitan Museum of Art together. Her mother worked diligently every year for their funding drive, so Carly was confident she could manage to get them in after dark. Recently, the Museum had extended its Friday hours to accommodate area vampires and vampire-led fundraising (Jean-Jacques particularly enjoyed working with the Cloisters, since they "reminded him of home"). Even still, she wasn't certain if their existing late hours would be correspond to their obligations for the gallery opening. Carly's plan was simply to stroll behind Thalia, asking her brief questions every once and a while, and hoping that she responded with one of her vivid stories. More reticent than Eric and Jean-Jacques, perhaps because she was a woman and extraordinarily disenfranchised during her own human life, Thalia seemed to open up when she bridled at deep misunderstandings of Greek culture and on those occasions.

Other vampires, particularly a triad who lived in a Monroe "nest," were thoroughly repulsive, although Carly was entirely convinced that they were repulsive when they were human. As she passed through the crowd, the worst of the three—Liam-stood squarely in her way and blocked her progress back toward the stage.

Liam's eyes glinted in an inhuman way, and the tattoos that covered his bald head made him look like an animal. "Nice show you put on, darlin'. You didn't turn around for the rest of us. How 'bout showing off those melons of yours?"

"Out of my way." Carly spoke each word slowly as if she were speaking to a dog.

"C'mon, baby. If you're giving it away up there, what about for us?"

Something about him made her blood boil, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She knew, of course, that if he touched her, he'd regret it for about twenty minutes as Eric, Godric, and the Magister tortured and staked him.

Just as Liam stepped even closer to Carly, she had a truly diabolical thought. Perhaps she could convince him to put on a little show of his own.

"Liam," Carly spoke his name slowly and looked into his eyes, summoning the wave of power that would pin his will against the wall and replace it with her own, "you want to put on a little show, don't you?"

"What?" Liam's eyes fluttered, and his balance wavered. "Yeah. I'd like to put on a show."

A warm breeze blew past her her ear and disturbed her hair. "You're going to go show your king how much you love him, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Liam lost his balance and stumbled. "Yeah, I love him."

With that, Liam careened toward the stage, pushing humans and vampires out of his way. Directly in front of Godric, Liam fell to his knees and cried out, "I love my king!"

Godric made a slight motion with his hand to encourage Liam to rise, but he didn't. Instead, Liam fell on his face, spread his arms to his sides, and started weeping.

Carly began to giggle, which seemed to relieve the pressure her will exerted upon Liam, so he scrambled to his feet, looked around, nodded to Godric, and fled the club. Godric turned to the laughing Magister and shrugged.

Catching a glimpse of Eric and Pam, who were leading Brian the V-dealer back to Eric's office, Carly threw up her arms and began dancing toward the stage. She moved provocatively back and forth in front of the stage, until one of the go-go dancers flagged her down and encouraged her to join her on the platform. The two women writhed and ground against the pole that separated them, although they never touched each other—the dancer knew better than to mess with Eric's human and Carly liked Dana, who'd been a teenager when she was turned a hundred and fifty years ago in Ireland.

On one of her turns around the pole, Carly found Eric in front of her, where he stood with his arms at his sides. She swayed her hips in front of him, and then jumped off the platform. Eric caught her without hesitating and carried her back to the stage, where she went back to reclining on the pillow in front of Godric and Eric.

Scanning the crowd behind her, Carly felt a weighty, but familiar presence. An unknown vampire sped through the crowd and came to kneel before Godric.

"Yes?" Godric said calmly, although Carly could tell that Eric was tense.

"Your majesty, my master, your neighboring monarch, Russell Edgington, the King of Mississippi, wants to greet you and congratulate you on your new position.

Godric was silent for a few moments and then spoke, "You may return to your master and inform him that we shall arrange for a state visit, but I am unavailable for such a conference tonight."

Carly turned over so that she could face the herald while leaning against Eric's leg. The herald looked at all three of the vampires and then at Carly, who could see the panic in his eyes and hear the shrill whistling in his mind.

"Your majesty," he pleaded, "King Edgington is just outside in his limousine."

"And, as I said, I am unavailable for diplomacy this evening." Godric's voice remained low and restrained. "You may add, herald, that our laws require monarchs to notify one another when they cross territorial boundaries. As your king was one of the first two vampires notified of my coronation, I am troubled to discover he was already in the state. He may have been prepared to annex a portion of our territory, but our territories remain together, and I am now King of Louisiana."

Carly reached up to Eric and summoned him silently to her.

"Yes?" Eric whispered.

"Perhaps Godric should offer him sanctuary," Carly suggested. "He's afraid Russell will kill him when he leaves."

Eric leaned back into his chair when he saw the herald's face snap toward Carly. "Your majesty, my bonded human suggests, rightly I believe, that Russell's herald might prefer to serve you."

Godric looked at the Magister, who shrugged. "Who is your maker, vampire?"

"Sophie-Ann Leclerq was my maker, your majesty."

"Why do you serve Edgington?"

"The late queen traded me for information about one of his construction ventures in Louisiana."

Eric leaned forward and inquired, "Would this happen to be the Industrial Lofts here in Shreveport?"

"Yes, Sheriff."

To Carly, the herald appeared caged in—outside the club he faced the true death as a messenger who returned with news the king did not want to hear; inside the club he faced punishment for his connection to the apartment complex that sheltered rogue vampires who were going to be milked like dairy cows.

The Magister spoke, finally, and said, "I believe it would be in this vampire's best interests to remain here in Fangtasia and then become part of my retinue. I will offer Edgington sufficient monetary compensation for you if you would be willing to serve me." Turning to Godric, the Magister said, "May I serve as your emissary in this matter, your majesty?"

Godric nodded, but added quickly, "Only if you are preceded by your full guard and if mine are stationed on the roof, with their net ready to be deployed."

The Magister responded by giving instructions on his cellphone.

"Your majesty, the crowd?" Eric sounded anxious.

"Will be a further protection, yes, but we know Edgington has little regard for our cause, our laws, or for humanity."

From backstage and from the sides of the club, a group of heavily armed guards suddenly stepped forward. Carly was surprised how few people inside the club seemed to take notice of the men, all of whom had rapid firing pistols in their hands.

"I shall return," the Magister nodded and then hopped off the stage, walking stick in hand.

Godric motioned to the herald to rise and said, "Get yourself a True Blood, child."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"Eric," Godric indicated a desire to speak with his child in the club office. When he rose from his throne and jumped down onto the main floor, he held out his hand to Carly, whom he swung onto the floor. The two of them waited on the dance-floor, and Godric turned her over to her lover.

Instead of moving into the office, they left the club through the rear employee entrance. Eric picked Carly up, and the two vampires rose to the roof of the club. Although somewhat startled, the guards remained focused on Edgington and the Magister, who conversed with one another in front of the king's limousine. Carly couldn't hear the two vampires, but Eric and Godric clearly were tuned into the conversation.

Frustrated, Carly focused her attention on Edgington, who kept waving away cigarette smoke that drifted into his face from the smokers outside the nightclub. She shifted her attention away from Edgington and to the smoldering embers that plagued him. Tugging on Eric's shirtsleeve, she whispered, "Hold me."

Eric held onto her tightly, while Carly stared at the embers and willed herself into them. With little warning, her perspective shifted to the end of the cigarette. A second later, nothing was left of it but smoke and ash, while the smoker screamed at the sudden conflagration. "What the fucking shit!"

Enmeshed into the cloud of smoke that whirled toward Edgington, Carly could hear everything the two vampires said. Despite his affected southern mannerisms and gentlemanly vocabulary, Russell Edgington seethed with anger.

"Magister, while I, of course," Russell spoke with treacle falling from his tongue, "respect the new monarch, I will not tolerate having him poach my servants. I simply wished for a moment of his time to convey my best wishes and my full intention for mutually beneficial cooperation, and this is how he repays me?"

The Magister replied in his most business-like fashion, "Your majesty, you are mistaken. I am the poacher in this regard. I find your herald appealing and also know perfectly well that you'd yank his head off the moment he was back in that limousine." The Magister tapped his walking stick on the ground and added, "Or perhaps he'd meet an unfortunate accident. So many vampires do under your supervision."

"I insist on compensation, Magister." Edgington stood as tall as he could, still waving away the smoke that had enveloped him at this point. "Why the hell do humans do this to themselves?"

"Clearly, your majesty, they do it to vex you." The Magister laughed, watching Edgington practically dance to escape the smoke.

Although Carly's bi-location, on the roof and in the smoke, allowed her an amusing vantage point to observe Edgington's growing distress, she also knew that she shouldn't rile him to the point where he lost control. She directed the smoke to hover around his legs where he wasn't as troubled by it.

"The herald came into my service as part of a transaction with the late, dear Sophie-Ann." Russell focused his gaze on the Magister. "You were a witness, I believe, to her untimely demise, Magister."

"Indeed, I was. Tragic. Just tragic." The Magister frowned in mock-sincerity.

"And the cause, you believe?"

"We believe that she and her second contracted a rare disorder from one of their human donors, who were all quarantined." The Magister did not add that they were also glamoured and released back into their previous lives.

"Have you identified the pathogen behind this rare disorder?"

"Since they turned into dust and bones, we have little to go on from their remains." The Magister added, "Alas."

"And Northman's companion?"

"Yes, Russell?"

"Wasn't she the last human that Sophie-Ann and Andre fed from?"

The Magister laughed scornfully, "If she were the cause, you would be speaking to another representative of the authority. I drank from her as well." The Magister licked his lips appreciatively and said, "She tasted good, although too much of Northman. And, not two hours ago, she fed the new King of Louisiana, who is hale and hearty."

"I'm glad to know that Northman is so free with his companion. Perhaps he will share her with me as well when we finally meet." Russell straightened his jacket. "These are matters for another time, of course, since I'm being sent off without my supper."

The Magister returned them to their, ostensible, original subject. "What compensation do you wish to have for your herald?"

"You've given it, Magister. I gained him for information, and you have given me information. He's yours." Russell walked back toward his door. "I will expect an emissary from the King in the coming days. If he wishes, we can meet on neutral territory. I am sure that his friend in Texas will oblige. I would prefer to stay away from Threadgill. I find him tiresome."

Carly couldn't resist one parting shot, so she directed the smoke around the car so that it appeared to be coming from the other direction. Mustering all her intention and focus, she heated the smoke so that it was nearly burning and sent it straight into Edgington's eyes, through his sinuses, and out his mouth and nose. Edgington keeled over, cursing, and hissed at the nearest humans. He screamed, "I hope you all enjoy dying of cancer!" Wiping his eyes and coughing, Russell Edgington, King of Mississippi, Scourge of Barbados, and murderer of the family of Eric Northman, climbed into his limousine and pulled away.

As Carly snapped back to her own body, she felt Eric laughing against her as he kissed her head. He whispered softly, "What a wonderful bitch you are, my darling."

Weak, she smiled up at him and said, "You know what I'd do if you'd let me."

Godric said forcefully, "Silence, children."

"Yes, master," Eric replied and nodded at his maker and king.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Once Russell was out of sight, the guards stood down, putting away their weapons; the Magister returned to the club; and Godric, Eric, and Carly returned to ground level.

"May we use your office, Eric?" Godric asked, and Eric nodded in reply.

When they reached the employees' entrance, Godric, with great fanfare, opened the door for Carly and directed her through first.

"Isn't this a violation of protocol, your majesty?" Carly inquired.

"When it is the three of us, I am just Godric, the eldest, and you are the woman, so I shall open your door." Godric smiled faintly, and pointed through the door with more determination.

"Thank you, Godric." At some point, Carly needed to open a discussion with Eric and with Godric about a number of things, least of which were the changes in gender dynamics that had happened in American culture over the last hundred years. As an anthropologist, Carly could observe vampires' assumptions about hierarchy, privilege, and power, but she didn't think such a discussion was worthwhile until Godric had consolidated his power over Louisiana. Even though she was, at this point, somewhere between eye-candy and a secret weapon, she yearned to write about vampires and the ways they interacted with humans. Perhaps more than anything, she couldn't wait until she could paint a royal portrait.

Carly waited to enter Eric's office, because she didn't know whether or not she would be privy to their conversation.

"Carly," Godric motioned for her to enter the office first, "I require your company, Eric's, and the Magister's." Nodding to his progeny, Godric said, "Could you please find him, Eric?"

"Yes, certainly." Eric departed for the front entrance, and Carly watched as he bobbed through the crowd that seemed to move with its own logic. She entered the office, and Godric shut the door behind them.

Carly moved to sit on the sofa, but Godric grabbed her wrist. "Eric will not mind," he said, as he healed the wound on her wrist with a few drops of his own blood.

"Thank you, I appreciate that, Godric." Carly rubbed the now healed wound. "It hurt a lot more than I expected."

"I regret that, Carly." Godric moved around the desk to sit in Eric's chair. "A king should never spill his blood in public. To do so would be blasphemy."

"Really?" Carly wondered if Russell still fed his werewolves his own blood. "What would happen if a vampire fed his blood to people over and over again?"

Godric looked at her with a penetrating stare. "Without feeding from them himself?"

She nodded in the affirmative.

"They would become entirely dependent on him—addicted to him. He would become the center of their universe." Godric went silent.

Carly feared the answer to her next question, but she asked, nonetheless, "What would happen if werewolves drank a vampire's blood?"

"They would become very strong. Almost unstoppable, except for the strongest of vampires, or an exceptional warrior."

Two sharp raps at the door interrupted their conversation, and Godric answered them: "Enter."

Eric and the Magister walked into the office, taking spots on the sofa on either side of Carly. Eric took Carly's hand and squeezed it gently, but then he lifted her wrist to his nose. He inhaled deeply where Godric had healed her. Closing his eyes, he kissed the spot where the wound had been.

"Eric, I presumed you wouldn't mind if I undid my damage." Godric cocked his head to the side. "Have I overstepped my bounds?"

"No, Godric. Carly is part of my family now, so I have no objection if you or Pam have a connection to her." Eric kissed her wrist again. "And I wouldn't want her to suffer any longer than she would need to for the sake of appearances."

"As did I." Eric and Godric seemed to share a moment silently, but Carly couldn't decode it. "Now, to return to political matters. I believe we should expect Russell to be a poor loser. I expect some effort on his part to disrupt my reign." Godric's voice was measured and steady.

The Magister nodded, "I agree. I'm troubled that he was satisfied by my 'information' about Sophie-Ann's demise. Primarily, I fear for dear Carly's safety." Immediately after the Magister made this statement, he placed his index fingers against his lips vertically and looked at each of them in turn.

Godric nodded to indicate his comprehension and added, "As do I, Magister."

Carly smiled faintly, and then stroked Eric's cheek gently, saying, "The worst thing he could do to me would be to hurt you."

"I agree, Carly." Godric looked at Eric with a love that was clear to all in the room. "Despite Eric's capability and wisdom, he will not represent our interests to Russell. At this point I will choose an emissary who is disposable. I will choose from among the vampires who worked for Sophie-Ann," Godric spoke with finality.

Eric responded with doubt, "How can you know they'll represent your position?"

"Eric, I do not entirely believe they must represent my position. It might be to our advantage to have an emissary who had other interests entirely. As I examined the records relating to her courtiers, a few names stood out to me." Godric turned to the Magister. "It is clear to me that the authority would prefer centralized control over vampire affairs. Is my intuition correct, Magister?"

"Your majesty," the Magister leaned toward Eric's desk and made a gesture as if he were writing, "I must object to the assertion that the authority would, in any way, abridge the power of the traditional monarchies."

The Magister handed Godric a note, who then handed it to Eric and Carly.

The note read, "Yes, you're right. Some chancellors wish to centralize control entirely. That's why they wanted New Orleans. They also want to spread their power across the globe. Please destroy this."

Godric said, "Thank you for your reassurance, Magister. I am very happy to know that the authority will support the monarchs."

As Carly held the note, which neither she nor Eric wished to tear up, since the Magister clearly suggested that they were being recorded, she thought back to her experience before the bonfire that consumed Christophe and the copies of his paintings. The Magister had ordered their destruction as punishment for his sins, before he was finally freed from his suffering. She recalled how her consciousness traveled through the smoke across the boundaries between Louisiana and Mississippi and how she fed the flames before Russell and his dinner companion. Somehow, she made the flames rise.

As she held the note, she wondered if she could manipulate fire, since her ancestors were able to transform themselves into fire and smoke. She visualized fire rising from her fingertips and, without hesitation, the note was consumed by flame.

Eric jumped to the side and exclaimed, "Carly!"

The Magister crossed his lips again. "Yes, I agree, Carly. I find smoking quite irritating."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think." Carly struggled with a range of emotions—she was proud that she could incinerate things, but she also felt somewhat embarrassed for having made the display without warning the vampires.

Godric smiled broadly and said, "To be honest, Carly, I do not mind whatsoever, although I would prefer that you smoke only among us, unless otherwise instructed."

Eric embraced her and whispered, "You continue to surprise us, my darling."

The Magister returned them to their topic. "You identified a few names, your majesty?"

"Yes," Godric replied. "One, I found particularly notable, although I have not met him. Within hours of Sophie-Ann's demise, he submitted a letter to the authority that was passed on to me that pledged his fealty to the future monarch."

"Do I know him, master?" Eric asked.

"William Compton, progeny of Lorena Krasiki. You may have encountered him at some point."

Eric scowled. "Yes, unfortunately, I have, shortly before Pam's making."

"How would you describe him?" Godric asked.

"At the time, a degenerate. He and his maker were cruel, sloppy, dissolute, even for vampires." Eric groaned and then added, "and Pam hates him. He murdered a number of her..acquaintances...while she was human."

"So my original assessment is accurate?"

"Yes, Godric," Eric affirmed. "I would say he is disposable."

The Magister added, "One other thing that speaks for his appointment, your majesty. He's originally from Louisiana. From the town of Bon Temps, I believe. As I recall from meeting him, he still has descendants there."

Without knowing if Godric knew about Sookie and the light fairies of Bon Temps, Carly couldn't assess whether or not he would recognize the Magister's clear implication—that it would be best to keep Compton as far from Bon Temps as possible for as long as possible. By the same token, Russell Edgington shouldn't be allowed anywhere near Sookie either, so there were some dangers in appointing an emissary who was from her home town.

"If he is familiar with the area, he might have some insights into issues endemic to Mississippi and Louisiana." Godric nodded. "He is in New Orleans currently, and I will compel him to retain his primary residence there. It will not do to have my emissary live in a small town that is inaccessible to me."

The three vampires looked at each other, and Godric nodded to Eric and the Magister. Apparently, Godric knew. Carly began to wonder whether Eric had kept any secrets from him.

"My friends, I believe that our work has concluded. Shall we return to the club for dinner and diversion? I admit that the excitement, and responsibility, stimulates my hunger." All of them stood, preparing to exit. Godric looked over at Carly and Eric. "Perhaps your blood has whet my appetites, but if I wait for Eric to share you, those appetites will go unfulfilled."

Carly took a step behind Eric and said, "I fear so, Godric."

"I will respect your boundaries, Carly, although if you were anyone else, I would have demanded that Eric share you." Standing immediately before his progeny, Godric took Eric's face in his hand, looked at him, and said, "And he would." Godric turned to Carly and said, "Of course, my dear, were you anyone else, I wouldn't be interested."

With that, Godric left the office, followed by a chuckling Magister.

Throughout the charged exchange, Carly had never let go of Eric's hand, nor had he let go of hers. Locking the door behind the exiting monarch and disciplinarian, Eric said, "You are mine, Carly. Please remember that."

"I do, Eric." Carly stood on her tiptoes to kiss him and their embrace quickly escalated to something more frantic. "You're mine too. No one else, Eric."

Pulling back from their kiss, Eric responded, "Do not be surprised if you dream of Godric, Carly."

"You're one forgetful vampire, my sweet Eric." Carly renewed her kiss more passionately until she pulled away to breathe. "Remember, I don't have wet vampire dreams like just any girl." Carly undid the halter at her neck, and let her jumpsuit fall around her ankles. She stepped out of it and directed Eric to the sofa. "Do you want to finish unwrapping me?"

Eric sat back on the couch and unhooked his belt and unbuttoned his shirt. "No, why don't you do it for me."

There wasn't much left for her to take off—just the ridiculously small bikini. Nonetheless, she stretched out her disrobing for as long as she could, noticing that Eric seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable, until his fangs popped out, and he stood to drop his own jeans. He scooped her up into his arms, she wrapped her legs around him, and when he sat back down, she was skewered on top of him. Heaving, she cried out and moaned. Within seconds, they were moving in concert with one another, kissing and biting at each other's lips, drawing blood that both drank up as they moved toward ecstasy.

Carly stopped rocking back and forth, and grabbed his hair. "I want your blood, Eric Northman."

"And you can have it."

Eric stood again, still inside her, and spun her around so that she faced away from him. He bit into his wrist, put it before her, and she began to suck and drink him in. He bit down on her neck and started to feed as they began to rock back and forth again in a rhythm that would end in their climax. But as they fed on each other, Carly felt heat moving up her body. As she looked beyond Eric's wrist, down at her feet, she saw blue flames lapping at her toes, moving up her ankles. Eric was groaning ecstatically and feeding from her hungrily, as she was him. As she reached orgasm, the flames enveloped them both. Eric roared with his own climax, shuddering with its force. When she disengaged from his wrist and looked back over his shoulder, she could see his hair flying in the flames. A smile swept across his face, and he began to laugh. She rested against him and watched as the flames evaporated. Turning back around to face him, she nuzzled against his neck, and let him slip back into her.

"You would kill a lesser man, Carly Michael." Eric laughed holding her tightly while she rubbed against him.

While the flames had been a surprise, she didn't fear them. "Did it hurt?"

"No." Eric didn't seem able to stop laughing. "It was wonderful—I feel—I feel such things with you." He rested his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes. "It's more than feeling alive. I feel joy—ecstasy. Love—Carly. I feel love—deep, universal, divine."

A knock at the door brought them out of their reverie. Eric reached his long arm across the sofa and unlocked the door, while Carly slipped off and covered herself and Eric as best as she could with the blanket that Eric kept on the back of the couch, mostly for her benefit.

Through the crack in the door, Carly saw and heard Godric. "May I have a turn with your sofa, my friend?"

Eric opened the door the rest of the way and summoned Godric, and the young woman who accompanied him, into the room. Carly would have appreciated a few moments to collect herself, but the girl was focused entirely on Godric. Even though she was in full possession of her faculties—he hadn't glamoured her—she only had eyes for him.

Without hesitation, Godric began nuzzling the girl's neck, kissing her ear, and whispering to her. "You do me a great courtesy, Melissa. It's been over a year since I fed directly from a human. I rarely eat."

"Please, Godric, I've wanted a vampire to bite me ever since y'all told us you were real." The girl, with her dyed hair, was heavier, and appeared healthier, than many of the young goth kids who swarmed the bar for its first night open. If anything, Melissa looked wholesome, as if she were just wearing a Halloween costume.

Godric's fangs emerged, and he asked, "Why, my dear? Why do you want a vampire to feed on you?"

"Well," Melissa swallowed, "I think it's only fair." She stuttered, "I mean, I've eaten so many cows and pigs. It's about time that something fed from me." She smiled sweetly at the vampire, who looked so young.

When Carly really looked at Godric, his external appearance, without thinking of him as Eric's maker, or as a 2000 year old vampire, she realized how sweet and young he looked. He could have walked out of any high school A/V club. Certainly, there were smart, clean-cut young boys who spent too much time indoors, too much time in front of computers. Without seeing Godric's tattoos, or hearing his very formal, slightly accented and occasionally archaic speech, he could probably be mistaken for some nerdy, although handsome, teenager.

"Are you willing to give me another gift, Melissa?" Godric pressed against her more forcefully, pulling her close to the lower half of his body.

Melissa's eyes fluttered as she felt him against her. Although Carly dressed hastily, she knew, even without trying to read Melissa's mind, what the girl was thinking of at that moment. Certainly, Godric must have been pressing his hard penis against Melissa, who seemed to be at Fangtasia to fulfill some vegan sense of obligation. Without trying, Carly knew that Melissa had only had sexual relationship, with a high school boyfriend who wasn't particularly interested in intimacy.

"Yes, Godric. I'll give you whatever you want," Melissa said earnestly.

By that point in their exchange, both Carly and Eric were fully dressed, and were almost out the door. Godric called to them suddenly, "Eric and Carly, do you think Melissa is worthy to be my companion this evening?"

Recognizing Godric's request that she go into Melissa's mind, Carly did, and saw nothing there but sincerity, although Carly also saw that Melissa was sad, lonely, and could be hurt deeply if she were discarded quickly. "Melissa would certainly be willing to keep you company, Godric, tonight and in the future. She's trustworthy."

The girl whispered to Godric, "Yes, I am trustworthy. And I like you, a lot."

"Then I shall see you shortly."

"Yes, master." Carly and Eric went back into the club, where they went back up onto the stage—Eric to his "throne," and Carly to her perch as "odalisque" for the club.

All in all, Carly thought the opening night had been a rousing success. As she surveyed the room, she could tell it was at capacity. Guards still crawled all over the roof and hid in the shadows to ensure Godric's safety. The Magister seemed relatively content with the way the evening had progressed—he'd also made it clear that Fangtasia was under surveillance, which she knew would irritate Eric to no end. Russell Edgington showed up and made an ass of himself, which seemed to suggest that he might be easier to provoke into open, and therefore legitimate, warfare than they'd expected. A line still wound around the block as people tried to get into the club before it closed down at 4am. She'd identified a new ability, and she'd enjoyed some strange "change of state" as she and Eric made love. And he'd said, once more, that he loved her.

For opening night of a bar, and the opening evening of a monarchical reign, it hadn't been half bad. Despite the music, which she thought was just horrific, and the swarm of thoughts and desires that swam through the crowd of human minds, Carly drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Rousing from sleep, Carly stretched, and looked across the room. Because of the silence, punctuated only by the sounds of night—crickets and wind—she expected to see the club empty and the doors open. Instead, she found herself on a pallet in the center of a small wooden structure. The only light came from faint embers in an open fire that illuminated the area immediately around her. She saw a middle-aged woman across the fire who snuggled between a swaddled infant and a large man, whose hairy, tattooed arm lay over her hip.

Carly sat up in shock and looked down at her body—which was not her body but the body of a young man. The gender was clear from the swelling in the britches that covered hips. Although she could see and hear everything around her, she felt few bodily sensations. She touched her face, and felt little hair on the chin. Her fingers felt the sensations, but the cheeks seemed numb to her touch. As she touched the inside of the young man's thigh, the response was muted, as if there were some delay between the intention to touch and the sensation of touch.

Reluctant to wake the other sleepers, the parents and their infant, as well as four other adolescents and children, and an elderly man, who slept in a sitting position against an exterior wall, Carly rose from her pallet and found her way to the door. Although the body wasn't sensitive to her touch, she could move it at will—at least it seemed like her will.

Once outside the structure, she saw a settlement that included numerous small buildings of the same kind as that she'd just exited. Beneath the illumination of a near-full moon, Carly saw a bronze-age settlement, with ten to fifteen circular dwellings with high, pointed thatched roofs, topped by canvas or skin smoke-holes. A palisade surrounded the homes and livestock pens. Moving a large stone aside, she squeezed through the space in the palisade gate it blocked. Before her, she could see fields with ripe grain and vegetables and pasture. The moon sat just above the western horizon, which sloped gently downhill. Walking upstream along the water that broke through the fields, Carly sought the moon's rising place. She was filled by a strange sense of anticipation and excitement as she trudged uphill and watched her shadow lengthen as she crested the hill. A rock outcrop gave a vantage point that extended miles into the distance. Carly focused on specks of light she saw far away, twinkling like distant stars against the dark eastern horizon.

Her mind abandoned the adolescent body and flew toward the light. She felt herself drawn into a fire, and her mind danced upon the flames. From her low perspective, she could see few things clearly. Desiring more information, she ascended within the smoke that encircled tents, and finally standards that loomed above the ground. The smoke brushed against Eagles at the tops of long poles, planted outside the tents...

"Carly..." Eric touched her shoulder gently and shook her.

Sitting straight awake, Carly gasped for air, before she said, "Fucking hell."

"That's how you greet your lover?" Eric sank down onto the floor next to her.

Suddenly aware that she was in Fangtasia, on the stage, and few people or vampires remained in the club, Carly blanched, breathed deeply, and apologized. "I'm so sorry. I fell asleep."

"Yes," Eric chuckled, "that's why I woke you. How you could sleep in here, I will never know."

"Neither will I." Carly shook her head, touched her chin, and her leg, and realized that she was truly awake, within her own body, and in control of its own movement.

Eric leaned closer to her, "Are you all right?"

"I was dreaming, Eric."

"Really? You were so still. I thought that you were finally sleeping soundly."

"No." Carly crept toward him and pushed against his embrace. "It was more...vivid. And I felt like I was in control—not just a passenger."

Eric brushed a stray hair out of her eyes and said, "You weren't working today. Why would you dream?"

Since being with Eric, Carly had gained much more control over her dreams and had rarely even needed to seek out the dead from her dreams. With enough focus, she could usually conjure up a waking vision at work, or while walking around the block, as she had for Cherisse, the young creole girl whose name and face came to her at work.

"You're not going to like this."

Eric kissed her gently and said, "You've lost trust in me?"

"No. But I think..." Carly remembered the strange way that Godric looked at her earlier in the evening, the way he suggested that, under other circumstances, he would have claimed her against her wishes and against Eric's. "I think that I woke up in Godric's body and walked around."

Quiet for only a second, Eric asked, "You don't think it was a memory?"

"No, it felt like I was in control of his movements." She tried to recall the exact sensation. "I could feel through his fingers, like they were mine, but when I touched his body—it was numb, like I was touching something that was anesthetized."

"Perhaps it's from his blood."

Carly nodded. "Probably."

Eric scooped her into his arms and dove off the stage in one swift movement. "I'd rather have you dream that you were him than that you were fucking him."

Carly expected that Eric would put her ground, but he kept hold of her. As they moved toward the rear entrance, Carly looked at the door to his office. "Is Godric still in there?"

"Yes. It's been three hours." Eric spoke without any judgment in his voice, but he hesitated before leaving the building.

"Do you want to check on him?" Since she knew that Godric hadn't been feeding directly from people for quite some time, she was worried. He'd seemed more lustful than he had been before, even when he'd been playful in Eric's home.

Eric dropped her feet and put her down. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all." Carly squeezed Eric before letting him go. "I want to know if everything is okay too."

"Yes, and I'm not sure he can find his way back to my house. He could sleep here, but wouldn't be appropriate."

Carly suddenly realized that she hadn't seen any of Godric's guards. "What happened to his guards?"

"Godric told them that he would meet them outside when he was finished with the girl."

Eric knocked twice on the door, and they heard, "Enter."

Before opening, Eric said, "It's Eric and Carly. May we both come in?"

"Please do."

Eric unlocked the door and slowly opened it, taking a look inside. Carly could tell from the humming in his mind that he was anxious about what she would see. He sighed loudly before walking in, shepherding Carly in behind him.

Godric sat on one end of the sofa, naked and rosy, with the nude, Rubenesque figure of Melissa extended the length of the couch, her head resting on his lap. She was pale, breathing shallowly, and unconscious. Her inner thighs and face still carried the tell tale bloody stains that showed she and Godric had sex. Carly could see at least three bites on her body, two on her neck and one on her inner thigh. One of the neck wounds still oozed blood, and, as Eric and Carly leaned against the desk, Godric swiped the blood with his finger and licked it away.

"We're going home, Godric." Eric pointed at Melissa. "Do you know where she lives?"

"In a dormitory, unfortunately." Godric shrugged. "I fear I may have overdone things a bit, particularly from my last taste."

Finally overcoming her shock at seeing this tableau, Carly went for Melissa's purse and began rummaging in her wallet.

"What are you looking for?" Eric inquired with little change in affect or tone.

"A medical card of some kind." Carly's impression of Melissa was that she was a good-hearted, kind, organized young woman, who had come to Fangtasia out of some strange sense of universal obligation. That same sense of obligation, Carly had seen, also led Melissa to donate blood regularly to a blood-bank, although she'd stopped doing it recently. With blood substitutes on the market, fewer people donated than they used to. Many, now, donated to vampire banks who paid for the blood. After pulling apart Melissa's wallet, Carly found her donor card. "Okay. Do you have a syringe?"

"Why?" Eric looked at Carly with some confusion.

Carly ejected a short, frustrated laugh, and said, "Do the two of you see her? Do you see how much distress she's in?"

Godric said, stroking Melissa's hair, "She'll be fine." He wrapped a lock around his finger. "She agreed to be my primary donor. She should get used to the blood loss."

"Seriously?" Carly couldn't believe what she was hearing, so she looked to Eric, who had never taken so much blood from her.

Eric finally seemed to understand what Carly was suggesting. "You want to give her some Tru Blood?"

"Yes, because I think it would be awfully bad for Melissa to die, or fail out of school because she was exhausted from blood loss, or get horribly sick." Carly barely restrained herself from saying, "Duh, yeah, stupid vampires."

"What's her type?" Eric was on board.

"B negative."

"There's a transfusion kit for emergencies in the first aid kit in the bottom drawer of my file-cabinet." Eric opened the door. I'll get a bottle." He paused and looked to Carly. "Do you think that will be enough?"

"Well, Godric," Carly had grown annoyed with the new monarch, "how much do you think she needs?"

"I think she will be fine." Godric seemed mesmerized by the girl's hair and continued to play with it. "But if you insist, she could benefit from two bottles."

While Eric got the blood substitute from the bar, Carly retrieved the transfusion kit and got it ready. She also covered Melissa in the blanket.

"Why did you do that?" Godric asked.

"If she's too cold, she'll go into shock." Carly grumbled under her breath, "I'm surprised she isn't in shock already just from blood loss."

"Carly," Godric said mildly, "this is how I've always fed from humans. They've rarely died."

"Rarely?" Carly scoffed again. "Godric, you're out in the open, and you're king of Louisiana, and feeding in your son's bar. You shouldn't rarely kill humans in this context. You should never kill humans in this context."

"I suppose I did ignore the risks." He looked at Carly longingly, "But I found myself preoccupied."

"Yeah, Godric, Eric's told me. I smell like honey by a newly sown field, or something like that." Carly sterilized Melissa's arm and hoped that she'd be able to puncture a vein without difficulty, or that Eric would be able to do it.

"Yes, there's honey, but also the smell that comes from the newly dead. It's always been like the scent of sex for me." Godric breathed in deeply. "But I apologize. I know you're not inclined toward being shared, and I know that Eric, although we have shared in the past, has no desire to do so with you."

"We're bonded to one another, Godric." Carly looked the vampire squarely in the eye. "I fed you tonight because that was what I was supposed to do—it was an act of allegiance that Eric was obligated to fulfill. But that's it. I'm not a buffet or a brothel."

Eric walked into the room laughing.

Somehow, Carly was just incensed at the two of them. "Now you're laughing, Eric?"

"Because I'd never thought of you as either." He put on the rubber gloves that came with the transfusion kit. "Either a buffet or a brothel. Now a buffet at a brothel, perhaps?" He smiled and snuck a kiss from Carly, which seemed to diffuse her anger. "Let me do this."

Without any hesitation, Eric punctured Melissa's vein and inserted the IV tube. He assembled the rest of the apparatus for the transfusion and then attached the bottle. He remained standing as he held it.

"I warmed it slightly, so it shouldn't be as bad as it would if it came straight from the refrigerator," Eric said looking at the blanket. "When she stirs, we'll talk to her."

Godric, who hadn't moved, said, "She won't be a pet, but I like her. She's genuine and innocent." He looked up at Carly and asked, "Could you get a wet cloth? I should probably start to clean her." Godric touched his finger to his fangs and drew out a few drops of blood, which he applied to the still bleeding wound on her neck. "She needs to be marked, but not so dramatically."

"Cloth, Eric?"

"There should be a box of clean cloths behind the bar," Eric directed Carly back into the club.

Carly shut the door behind her and jogged to the bar, where Longshadow was cleaning up. One last young man was sitting at the end of the bar, staring into the mirror.

"Longshadow, can I get one of those clean white cloths?" Carly asked.

"Why?" Longshadow didn't move from his work.

"Eric sent me, okay?" Carly really despised Longshadow among the vampires she'd met face-to-face, because he seemed to harbor such resentment toward humans. Really, she didn't know why anyone thought he'd be a good bar-tender.

Longshadow reached below the bar and tossed it to her. "Happy, now?"

"Content." Carly ran across the club to the ladies room, where she dampened the cloth. She brought back the wet cloth, along with a handful of paper towels, to the office. Once at the door, she took a moment to check into the minds in the office. Melissa was still unconscious, but Carly could tell that her breathing had strengthened. Godric's brainwaves didn't betray any distress, but there was still the faint pattern of self-destructiveness Carly felt before. Eric's mind, on the other hand, alternated between fury, guilt, and frustration.

After a deep breath, Carly opened the door and walked into the office, where she found the vampires in the same positions, but with their eyes locked together.

"Are you two okay?" Carly asked tentatively.

"Carly, dear, may I have the cloth?" Godric asked without looking away from Eric.

Carly walked over to Godric, handed him the cloth, and then knelt beside Melissa. The girl's pulse was stronger with the additional blood, and her breathing was strong, but she didn't stir, even with the damp cloth cleaning her face and neck. Carly looked up at Eric and wished desperately that he could hear her worries. _What if she has brain damage? What if she doesn't wake up? What would happen if Godric gave her some of his blood?_

Eric stared back at her and then looked over at Godric, who was now washing Melissa's chest and breasts.

"Master," Eric spoke, "I know you said you didn't intend for Melissa to become a pet, but she should have roused at least somewhat by now."

Startled, Carly stood suddenly and bent her head in a questioning gesture. Eric nodded at her and then continued speaking to Godric.

"Godric," he said, insistently seeking a response.

"Yes, Eric, I apologize. I was just wondering why I didn't wish her to be a pet. She really is a sweet creature." Godric's fangs extended, and he bit his wrist. He bent Melissa's head backward, so that her mouth fell open, allowing his blood to drip into the young woman's mouth. "Perhaps she will awaken if she has my blood. Otherwise, I fear my reign will end prematurely."

_What? _

"My lord, your reign wouldn't end." Eric shook his head, "But we would need to pay reparations to her family."

"I suppose." Godric played absently with Melissa's hair, as the young woman took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

"Godric?" Melissa spoke quietly. "What happened?"

"My sweet," Godric matched her sleepy tone. "I became too enthusiastic for you and took too much blood."

Eric disconnected the transfusion kit and pulled the tube from her arm. "Keep your arm bent, Melissa." He rummaged in the kit and found a piece of rolled gauze and medical tape. Eric taped the gauze to her arm and patted her gently on the arm. "You should be fine, Melissa."

"Where are my clothes, Godric?" Melissa looked up at the ancient vampire, "And where are yours?"

"We can dress, my dear." Godric raised her to a sitting position and stood up. Carly walked away, so that she could stand behind Eric, between him and the door. Eric turned so that he too faced the door. Wrapping his arms around her, Eric whispered into her ear, "Full of surprises, aren't you my girl?"

Carly leaned back into her vampire and relaxed against him. "Even to myself, Eric."

Hearing a faint groan behind them, Carly turned to look around Eric at Melissa, who struggled to a sitting position. A fully dressed Godric, gathered up Melissa's clothing, and helped her put on her shirt and skirt.

"Melissa," Godric spoke each syllable slowly. "You will..."

"No," Eric interrupted. "Don't, Godric."

"But shouldn't we make her forget?"

"No, she's had your blood." Eric took the few steps toward his maker. "Leave her a way to understand what she's gone through, Godric. You owe her that."

"You speak to your maker, Eric." Godric came right against him and held his gaze aggressively. "And your king, sheriff."

"I know, your majesty." Eric knelt before him, and Carly gestured toward Melissa, encouraging her to come close.

Melissa moved toward Carly, but Godric blocked her way. "No, Melissa."

"You're a king, Godric?" Melissa asked, still in a fog.

"Of the vampires of Louisiana." Godric turned and took Melissa in his arms. "I am going to claim you as my own human. No one else may drink from you or take their pleasures with you, Melissa. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Godric. I do." Melissa looked at Carly and the kneeling Eric. "Why are they both so nervous?"

Godric smiled and traced along Melissa's cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear. "I fear that I've been somewhat unlike myself, Melissa." Godric gazed over at Carly, and then reached down to lift Eric's chin. "Rise, my child." Looking back at Melissa, Godric told her, "Carly is special, Melissa, and she can tell that I have been unhappy recently, that I have felt few reasons to continue my existence."

"But you're so, amazing, Godric." Melissa melted with admiration. "You're so sweet."

Godric took Melissa's hand. "I could have killed you, Melissa."

"Only because you were out of practice, Godric."

Carly stared at Melissa and wondered at her steadiness, at the absence of any caution on her part. Carly pulled herself into Melissa's mind and examined the young girl's thoughts. _He was so gentle, how could he have hurt me? He looks like a boy, but he's a king. And he said that I'm his human. What a privilege to belong to someone so beautiful, so kind, so wise? I need to keep him happy so he doesn't hurt himself._

Without any hesitation, Melissa was willing to sacrifice herself for Godric's well-being, without understanding whatsoever how close she'd come to spending the rest of her own existence in a coma.

"Melissa," Carly spoke up and the two vampires looked over at her with surprise in their eyes. "You're right. Godric was out of practice, but you can't just surrender yourself to him. If you're going to be his human, you have to be more than just his feeding trough. Do you understand that?"

"What do you mean, Carly?"

"Perhaps," Godric squeezed Melissa's hand, "Carly could accompany you back to your dormitory?"

Eric pulled the keys to his Lincoln out of his pocket. "Do you think you can drive it without any problem?"

"It's a big car, but I should be fine. Could you meet me there?"

Eric kissed her forehead and said, "Of course, my darling."

"Come on, Melissa." Carly waved her over. "I'll give you a ride in Eric's land yacht."

Godric kissed the girl one more time and slipped something into her purse. Carly couldn't see what it was, but she assumed it was a phone number, or money, or both.

The two women were silent as they left the building and got into the Lincoln.

"So where am I headed?

"I'm at Centenary, so just take Highway 1 south, and then you just turn on east on King's Highway. It's not far—maybe about ten minutes."

"Well," Carly pulled out of the parking space, "it will give us a few minutes to get to know each other."

"I'm kind of tired, Carly." Melissa expressed her reluctance to talk. "I don't need you to tell me that Godric's dangerous."

"I wasn't going to, Melissa." That sudden turn, directly to a concern that Carly was going to try to talk Melissa out of seeing Godric, made Carly wonder about the young woman a little bit more.

"You weren't?"

"No," Carly shook her head. "I think he's a good man. And he seems to like you very much."

Melissa sighed deeply and looked out the window. "He's much more than a man, Carly. He's a vampire."

"Yes, but he's still a man, Melissa. You have to remember that." Romanticizing vampires, Carly suspected, was the most dangerous of all reactions humans had to them. "In many ways, vampires are men who haven't been paying attention for the last hundred years. If you want to have a relationship with one, you can't just be a blood bag."

"Please, Carly, don't lecture me." Melissa's stare out of the window was vacant, and her mind drifted straight to thinking of her father, who would slap her mother whenever she mouthed off to him.

"Okay. I'm just warning you. You need to keep reminding Godric that you're a person who deserves his respect, not just a donor."

"But how can we, Carly?" Melissa shook her head and looked sadly at Carly. "How can we deserve his respect? Or any vampire's? They're going to live so long. We're food for them, Carly. That's all we are. I wanted to feed one, but I wound up feeding the king. How could my life be any better or any more worthwhile?"

Carly was about to turn onto King's Highway, but instead she pulled into a parking lot, where she slammed the car into park and turned it off. "Out, Melissa. Out!"

The girl looked at Carly in shock. "What?"

"Out of the goddamn car, Melissa. We're going to have a little talk." Carly was furious that this woman felt so little of herself she wanted nothing more than to empty herself into a vampire.

Carly flew out of the car, her speed fueled by rage. She opened Melissa's door and pulled the college girl out of the car and pinned her to the rear door. "Why the hell do you think so little of yourself, kid? Don't you understand? You think you're worthy nothing else than being a meal for a hungry vampire?"

Melissa started crying and pushed Carly back. "Where do you get off? You took off your clothes in front of everyone."

"Yes, I did. But it was my idea!" Carly stood right in Melissa's face. "I love Eric, and I wanted to do something that would enhance his status as sheriff of this district and would show everybody that Godric had his complete and unfailing support. Yes, I acted like a sex object, but it kept me from having to deal with all the vampires and fucking fangbangers in the crowd."

"You mean you thought that up?" Melissa looked at Carly.

"Yes. It was performance art." Carly started laughing, her anger diminishing slowly. "Otherwise, I would have spent all night sitting at the bar with Pam, making fun of what everyone was wearing."

"Oh." Melissa yawned. "If you're done yelling at me, will you take me home?"

"Only if you promise to think well of yourself. You're smart, Melissa. Learn from Godric, but let him know you want to live." And here was the rub, Carly thought. She wasn't confident that Melissa actually wanted to live. "If we hadn't been there tonight to give you a transfusion, you might have died."

"Really?"

"Yes, Melissa." Carly looked back into Melissa's mind and realized that the girl craved protection for herself and for her mother from her father. "Where does your family live?"

"Baton Rouge."

"Do you have email?"

"Yes, why?"

"Send me their address." Perhaps Carly could talk a little sense into the man, or at least put the fear of the valkyries into him.

Melissa's face fell and she started to cry, "Please don't tell my dad I'm seeing a vampire. He..."

"He won't take it out on your mother." Melissa looked at Carly with fear. "And I wouldn't tell the bastard anyway."

"How do you..."

"Because I can read your mind, Melissa." Carly smiled. "We all have talents, Melissa." Carly gathered all of her intention and focus, "And you won't remember anything of mine, Melissa. I'm just another girl dating a vampire. Do you understand?"

"Yeah..." Melissa yawned again, and her eyes fluttered with exhaustion.

"Let's get you into bed."

They pulled up behind Melissa's dormitory in five minutes after pulling away from the parking lot. As Melissa walked along the sidewalk, teetering side to side as if she were drunk, Carly climbed into the passenger side of the Lincoln. If Carly's intuition was right, Eric was hovering over them, and even then was watching to make sure that Melissa found her way into the dorm without incident. After a few minutes, the driver's door opened, and Eric climbed in.

"That was some talk you had with the young thing, wasn't it?" Eric said as he turned the ignition.

"I doubt it will do any good." Carly wasn't optimistic for Melissa's future, but committed herself to making life somewhat easier for her and her mother if possible. "Maybe I can scare her dad a little so he won't keep beating on her mom and on her whenever she gets the chance."

"I wondered where the bruises on her back came from." Eric reached across the seat to take Carly's hand. "Godric and I talked for a little while."

"And?"

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Eric looked at her as they turned the corner and got back onto the main road. "Do you think you might be able to help him?"

"I can't give him more blood or let him..."

"No." Eric cut her off before she could finish the thought. "You're mine, Carly. He knows that. And he also knows he can't use that as an excuse for his poor judgment tonight."

"Where is he staying?"

"His guards took him back to my home, but I think he's going back to New Orleans tomorrow or the next night."

"And us?"

"We're going back to your place, if that's okay?"

"If you're more comfortable, I'm fine at your house. I won't be waking up before you tomorrow, anyway." Despite Godric's demeanor toward her, she didn't want him to be alone.

"Are you worried about him, my little valkyrie?"

"Not as much as my big vampire is." Carly brought Eric's hands to her face and kissed each of his knuckles. "I worry because I can feel it in you, Eric."

They sat quietly, hand in hand, until they reached his home. Before they moved into the house, Carly felt for Godric's signal, which was still evenly modulating. What she'd first assumed was serenity, she now knew was depression.

As they moved into the house, Godric spoke quietly, "I presumed, my child, that the two of you would sleep at Carly's home."

"No, master. We preferred to take our rest here with you."

"I'm grateful for your company," Godric smiled. "Perhaps I should have kept Melissa with me. Did you see her back to her dormitory, Carly?"

"I couldn't pull the car up in front of it, but Eric made sure she got inside."

"I regret I misused her," Godric moved toward the kitchen. "I forgot how the hunger can take hold once it begins. Did the two of you talk, Carly?"

"A little bit."

Eric followed Godric into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of blood for himself and a bottle of orange juice for her.

Once back in the living room, Godric asked, "Do you believe she'll be willing to see me again?"

Carly nodded but added, "She has her own sadness, Godric."

"She's much too young for true sorrow. Is there something I could do to ease it?" Godric's concern for the girl reassured Carly.

"Perhaps, but you should ask her yourself about it." Although Carly cautioned Melissa to make sure Godric saw her as a "authentic being," worthy of respect, she could do some things to influence the way that Godric treated the girl. "Did you learn anything about her tonight?"

"She told me about her classes at her college, but little about her family." Godric squinted at Carly. "Should I assume that means she has a poor relationship with them?"

"Do you have a plan for seeing her again?"

"Yes, I gave her my contact information and enough money to travel to New Orleans." Godric took a sip of his blood and then added, "I will offer to relocate her to a New Orleans college if she wishes."

To Carly, Eric seemed troubled. "I thought you didn't want her to be a pet?"

"Perhaps I was too hasty." Drinking more blood, Godric said, "I found her presence comforting." He added quickly, "Carly, do not worry. I won't abuse her in any way. And I will not feed as haphazardly as I did tonight."

"Why did you, Godric?" Eric placed his hand over her leg, almost in a gesture of caution, but she continued with her question, nonetheless. "You said it was because my blood got you excited. Is that really why?"

"No, Carly." He walked toward a window. "I think it was residual self-destructiveness. Part of me hopes that Eric will simply take his rightful place as king." Godric turned to look at the two of them. "I fled from human contact for so long and avoided authorities for so long. While Eric has known me a thousand years, he did not know how deeply I suffered in my first thousand."

Carly didn't wait for Godric to continue his story, but added. "How long did the Romans hold you captive?"

"Perhaps I shall share my story with you tomorrow night, Carly." Godric smiled sweetly at her and nodded to his child. "I am sure that Eric feels the pull of the sun as well. I would like to wash before resting." Godric drank the remainder of his blood and dropped the bottle in the kitchen. "I wish you both a good rest."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Surrounded by bleating sheep, the little boy ran through the flock chasing a long-haired black dog, who darted back and forth, startling the docile sheep. The sky above them was a piercing blue punctuated at intervals by fluffy clouds that refracted the light. An elderly man, standing beneath a tree, called out to the boy, or the dog—the name was the same in the logic of the dream—and both of them obeyed.

The old man unwrapped a small parcel, a sausage, and gave both the boy and dog a small piece. Hearing a sound, the dog snapped to attention and trotted to the top of a hill, where be leaned back on his haunches and growled. A horseman jumped over the dog and pulled to a stop before the old man. A few words exchanged, and the boy mounted the horse before the rider and they galloped off into the distance.

The horizon snapped shut, and before her stood the cauldron and the elders.

_Your dreams have grown powerful child, more powerful than any we have known._

_So..._

_We come to warn you. Beware lest you break through time. Resist the impulse to aid those who have already accepted their fate. If you do so, you will lose yourself—you will come to us and stir the cauldron._

_If I try to change the past?_

_You will lose yourself and come to stir the cauldron._

_So if I dream of someone's past, I shouldn't try to change it? Is that what was happening with Godric? Could I have changed his past?_

_Change the past and destroy yourself, child. Be warned._

The breath caught in her chest as she sat straight up in bed. Eric stretched next to her, and Carly realized that they'd both slept all day. Really, she wasn't surprised. Even though she'd slept at the club, Carly found that she rarely got enough truly restful sleep to meet her needs. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Carly crawled back into bed with Eric. Stretching out next to him, she ran her palm down his back. "How is my man?"

Eric rolled to face her. "Hungry and horny. Just as I usually am when I awaken next to my beautiful woman."

Carly felt playful and wanted desperately to forget the threatening dream she'd awakened from. "Well, Eric, I'm hungry too."

"And what about the horny?"

Carly stroked Eric's thigh with her own and then extended her leg across his belly and then drew it back to her side of the bed. "Well, I told you. I'm hungry for you."

Moving faster than she expected, Eric rolled her onto her back and caught her teasing leg up in his arm and pushed it toward the head of the bed. He waited, pressing against her, and then Carly kissed him and bit his bottom lip.

Eric pushed into her roughly and she groaned. "I don't want to wait, Carly."

They moved together slowly at first, and then faster, until Carly bit at Eric's lips. "I'm hungry for you, Eric." Carly scratched at Eric's neck until she drew blood. She latched onto his neck, and Eric moaned deeper and deeper as she sucked harder and harder at the wound. As Eric climaxed, he bit fiercely into her wrist and drew an overflowing mouthful of blood, the sight of which brought her into the center of a orgasmic vortex. Blue fire extended from her core and enveloped them both. They broke away from each other's wounds and they moved to consume each other's lips and tongue. Devouring each other, wrapped in blue fire that burned hot and cold simultaneously, they didn't notice Godric enter the bedroom, or walk toward the bed. They had no idea that Godric was with them until he reached out to touch the flame, which repulsed him and cast him against the far wall, holding him there.

"Eric..." Godric whimpered as the flames burned against his throat.

The sudden awareness of Godric's presence called Carly and Eric from their passion and the flames evaporated. Eric ran to his maker and checked his throat. "Are you all right, master?"

"Yes." Godric rubbed his throat. "I seem uninjured." Godric raised his gaze to Eric's and took in his naked progeny and his bonded, who stood just behind him, both their lips and bellies covered in blood.

"I'm sorry, Godric." Carly apologized and continued, "These things just seem to happen when we share blood."

"It's my own fault for being presumptuous." Godric tried to flee the room, but Eric stopped him.

"Really, are you all right?"

"Yes, child." Godric left the bedroom, leaving Eric and Carly behind to contemplate the fire that did not burn, but still protected them from interruption.

"Eric," Carly leaned against her lover, "do you know why this happens?"

He kissed her forehead. "No, but it's magnificent."

"Yes, but it could have hurt him."

"But it didn't." Eric pushed her back slightly by the shoulders so that he could look her in the eyes, "Godric wasn't hurt, just immobilized."

"Do you think..." Carly couldn't even formulate her question.

"Carly, we should rinse off and get dressed, and then we can talk." Eric kissed her and then pulled her toward shower, where they washed quickly. After drying off, they moved to the wardrobe and dresser.

Thinking about everything that happened, about the wind and the flames, about her hand full of fire, about Eric's sudden ability to hear her thoughts back in the office, Carly worried that she was becoming a danger to those around her.

But perhaps, instead, Carly would be able to protect her beloved Eric, and his maker, from the threats that they would face; perhaps she was meant to be the means through which he finally found revenge against Russell.

Once they were both dressed, Eric took Carly's hand and responded directly to her worry. "Carly, please don't worry. You didn't hurt him." He kissed her hand and added, with a smirk, "And it's nice to know we won't ever get interrupted."

"I just don't want to hurt anyone, Eric." Carly shook her head, "And we've never talked about what happened in the office—you could hear me."

"Only vaguely, Carly." Eric directed them toward the door. "And you have to admit that we benefited, as did poor Melissa."

"I guess."

"Carly, I will never protest if you have abilities that will protect you from harm." Eric finally pulled her through the door into the hallway and then toward the living room.

Eric stopped them just short of the living room and said quietly, "Perhaps Godric can give us some insight about the flames as well." Smiling seductively again, Eric said, "I was occupied, so I don't remember much of it."

"I do not believe I can tell you much about the fire, other than it seemed intent to keep me away from you." Godric turned toward the door to address the lovers as they walked into the room.

"Were you hurt, Godric?" Carly moved toward him. "I never would hurt you intentionally. I hope you know that."

"Of course, Carly." Godric walked to her and took her hand. "See, you do me no harm." He smiled softly and addressed Eric. "My child, as I have said before, Carly is an exceptional prize."

Eric nodded in assent. "Yes, she is, master. But I believe she has all of our best interests in mind."

"Of course, Eric." Godric responded to his son, although he never stopped looking at Carly or holding her hand as they spoke. "I hope that she will look favorably on me while I reign in Louisiana."

"Godric..."Eric tried to get his maker's attention. "Look at me."

With a snap of his head, Godric refocused on Eric and let Carly's hand drop from his own. "Let me be clear, Eric. I am your maker and your monarch. Your interests and Carly's interests are my interests."

Eric bowed his head, took one step back, and said, "Yes, master."

Carly took one step backward and angled herself so that Eric partially shielded her from Godric, because nothing but menace rolled from him. She touched Eric's elbow, just to keep contact with him.

Without any warning, Godric's fangs extended sharply, and he lunged for Eric's throat. Just as suddenly, blue flames cast him across the room and held him there, where he began to laugh raucously. He croaked, "As I suspected."

Almost in response to Godric's laughter, the flame dispersed, and he fell to the floor, still laughing.

"Please do not be angry, my children," Godric calmed himself and relaxed into a triangular pose, leaning against the wall with his forearms draped over his knees. "I needed to confirm my suspicions, so that I had a sense of your limits."

Carly collapsed to the floor and sat cross-legged. "Eric, I don't understand."

Remaining standing, Eric whispered to her as he grasped her hand, "I don't either. Do you, Godric?"

"When I was a child, when we saw blue fire on the horizon, we would attribute it to the gods or the earth spirits. Any man who followed the fire would find death." Godric smiled broadly, more broadly than he had since Carly had first met him. "But more than anything, I believe something has emerged from the two of you, and will protect you, no matter the threat."

"But you weren't injured, Godric." Eric seemed to disbelieve his maker. "How could we be protected if the fire doesn't harm you?"

"I bore you no ill will." Godric cocked his head to one side. "Perhaps the fire responds to the intention of the attack, just as Carly's blood senses the intention of a biting vampire."

Carly sat and listened to the two vampires debate the causes and consequences of the blue flame that had now manifested outside of their bed, outside the power of their shared orgasm, that seemed to be able to respond to a threat before Carly was even conscious it existed.

Quietly, Carly said, "Am I becoming too dangerous?"

"No," Godric reassured, "you are not. And I do not know if this is something that comes from you." As if to reinforce his point, Godric flew across the room and held Carly by her shoulders three feet above the floor, growling with his teeth extended.

Eric rushed to her side, his own fangs bared. "Put her down, Godric. You have made your point."

Godric set Carly down gently. "Of course, Eric." Godric kissed Carly's forehead and said, "So we know now that this is not something unique to you, Carly. The flame seems to issue from you both if you are in contact with one another." Looking to one of them, and then the other, Godric declared, "For that reason, I would prefer that you stay with one another, at least until we know how Russell Edgington intends to respond to his perceived slight."

"Please don't do that again, Godric." Carly's heart still raced after the three shocks Godric had given her right in a row.

Godric knelt before Eric and Carly. "My children, I swear on the blood. I will neither do you harm, nor threaten it to test you."

Eric raised Godric to his feet and embraced his maker and monarch. "Please do not bow to us, Godric. You don't need to do that."

"I give you my oath, Eric. And oaths are given by supplicants, not superiors." Godric turned to Carly and assured her, "I have struggled throughout the years to come to terms with humans. You, Carly, I feel are equal in wisdom and strength to any vampire. I realize you are more than human, but I fear your safety prevents me from treating you as you deserve when among other vampires."

Carly nodded, finally coming to terms with the evening. "I understand, Godric, and I appreciate the faith you seem to have in me after knowing me so little time."

The three of them disengaged and went to their own kitchens to eat. Carly went upstairs to the ground floor, where she kept her food in the large conventional kitchen, while Eric and Godric stayed downstairs, so that Godric could heat up some donor blood. Carly heated up a microwavable meal and made herself a small salad. Although Eric had no difficulty watching her eat, Godric seemed genuinely troubled by the action, so she stayed upstairs to eat.

Over the past month, Carly had gone from the near complete isolation of a Swedish archeological site, to the social isolation of her work and her relationship with Eric. Although she tried to read the paper at work, she usually only knew about local crimes; rarely did Carly have the opportunity to pay attention to national or world events. To fill the silence, mostly so she didn't have to keep thinking about the strange blue fire, or whether she was going to set Eric's high-dollar sofa alight with a touch, or if she would wind up condemned to stir the valkyries' cauldron, Carly turned on CNN to watch the news. In addition to news of the two wars that raged in the Middle East and Central Asia, and the continuing fall-out from a variety of natural disasters, one piece of news that trailed across the bottom of the television screen captured her attention. "Ninth foreigner killed in German violence. Neo-Nazis suspected."

Carly twitched reflexively, reminded of Godric's story about Russell's interests in Nazi officials during WWII. What if Russell had turned someone like Himmler? Carly couldn't really imagine that a vampire version of that man could possibly be more cruel, more dangerous, than he was when he was human. Still, the thought lingered.

Godric had turned a dying hero, a young man in his prime, who fought valiantly as a warrior, who loved life, even if he killed in battle. The Magister's and Jean-Jacques's maker was obsessed with justice, and turned clergymen he thought were particularly worthy, men who, even before the invention of synthetic blood somehow managed to subsist in a "cruelty-free" fashion. But what would someone like Russell do? Who would a creature like Russell turn?

Even worse, now Carly worried about what kind of man was going to represent Godric's interests in Russell's court. Eric called him "dissolute" and seemed to imply that Compton's maker was crazy, even to the point of obsession.

In the time they'd been together, Eric had told her about vampires who made hundreds of off-spring, who seemed to thrive with huge families, who seemed to support and nurture their progeny so that they could control themselves and behave in a way that kept them safe from prying eyes. Somehow, Carly doubted that a vampire with 250 progeny could be a good judge of character, because she doubted she knew five people who could handle the power, or the bloodlust, that came with existence as a vampire. She doubted that she, herself, would be able to manage it. And just as quickly as she'd committed to think about something else, she began again to ruminate on her ability to manipulate—to glamour almost as well as a vampire. She could ignite a fire with thoughts, travel through space (and now, it seemed, time) in her mind and manipulate objects without having a physical presence, and she and Eric had developed this strange blue fire that could protect them from their enemies. In the end, she began to wonder if she might be just as dangerous as any vampire.

Just as Carly was about to wallow in despair and confusion again, Eric and Godric found their way to the main floor. Eric sat next to her and seemed content, even relaxed.

"We should go to Fangtasia for a while. Do you think you can manage?" He smiled coyly. "Pam says that I'm a main attraction."

Carly giggled. "Of course you are. And now that your patrons have seen a nearly naked woman at your feet, they all want to audition for the job."

Sneaking a quick kiss, Eric replied, "That job is taken." He stretched, "But we don't have to tell anyone that unless they get fresh."

"No, I guess we don't." Carly finished her dinner and cleaned up her mess. From the kitchen, she asked, "Do I have to dress up again?"

"Not as elaborately, dear, but you should dress the part of the vampire's minion."

Eric's smirk got under her skin, but she responded playfully. "Godric said I was the equal to any vampire, so I say I should get to wear jeans and a t-shirt if you do."

"Only if they're tight, and you're not wearing a bra."

As she walked past him, headed downstairs, Carly messed up Eric's hair and said, "Dream on, vampire. I'll put on a nice dress."

When Carly went into Eric's bedroom to change, she found that he'd laid out a beautiful, simple and elegant black silk dress, new heels, and a jewelry box on the bed. As she began admiring it, he snuck up behind her and said, "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful, Eric. It's so nice—almost modest." Carly smiled up at him and offered him a kiss. "When did you get it?"

"A while ago. I thought we could have a night together, but I got impatient, and thought you'd enjoy the change from last night's harem girl costume."

"Thank you."

"But you have to let me help you change." Eric's sly playfulness was back in force.

Eric smacked her hand gently as she moved to undress herself. Instead, he removed all of her garments, and then brought out a bottle of lotion from a dresser drawer. He massaged it into her skin. Carly leaned against his touch and said, "Why are you doing this? We're not going to make it there in time."

"We're not going to make love now, my darling." Eric nibbled her ear as he rubbed lotion into her belly. "I just want to touch you, to make sure that I mask some of that delicious smell you have."

After attending to her legs, avoiding her "special area," Eric helped her on with her undergarments, and slipped the dress over her head. It had a short side-zipper that made sure that it was snug around her. Then he opened the jewelry box, which included a necklace, earrings, and a ring. Rose gold settings encircled round, oval, and square garnets that alternated without a distinct pattern. He slipped on the ring to her ring-finger, and its resemblance to a wedding band overwhelmed her.

"They're beautiful, Eric." She lifted herself onto her toes so she could kiss him.

"They show you're mine."

After a deep, passionate kiss, that Carly felt certain would result in the removal of all the clothes that he'd so carefully dressed her in, Eric broke away.

"But how do I show you're mine, Eric."

He smiled. "After tonight, I think something in blue would be appropriate."

Within seconds, Carly knew exactly what she was going to do. "We need a little slip of paper then."

They went back up to the main floor, where Godric sat in front of the television cringing at the news, and Eric got a piece of paper from a pad next to his telephone. Carly tore off a small length of paper and wrapped it around his right ring finger. Even though she thought a wedding band would look beautiful around his long, slender, but strong fingers, she wouldn't impose the symbolism on him.

"Okay. Now I know how big your finger is." Carly stashed the paper in her purse and declared, "I'm ready when you two are."

On the way to the bar in Eric's Lincoln, Carly day-dreamed about the ring she would design and have made for Eric. She imagined a blue signet ring, a blue agate, with a carved intaglio of Eric's Mjolnir. It would be difficult to miniaturize with suitable detail, but she could probably abstract the image in a way that would make for a compelling seal. Even if Eric didn't want to be king, he could still have a ring worthy of a royal seal.

As soon as they walked into bar, Carly ducked into Eric's office for some paper and a pencil. Eric and Godric spent some time on the floor, talking with Pam and other area vampires who showed their deference to their king and their Sheriff. Carly also knew that Godric planned to meet with an architect who would direct the refitting of Sophie-Ann's palace in New Orleans. Carly hoped Godric would get rid of the garish decorating and the over-illuminated solarium.

Carly sat at the bar while Eric and Godric mingled, sketching out the ring. She loved rose gold, so she'd have the ring cast out of that; their rings would match, at least in their metal. Unfortunately, she couldn't carve the stone herself, so she'd have to trust a jeweler. Carly was certain that Abdullah would know someone good. If she could find a jeweler and get him or her the design soon enough, she might be able to give Eric the ring in New York when they went for the opening of Abdullah's show.

As she sketched, Carly opened up her mind to those around her. She sensed the minds of a dozen vampires that all stood around Godric and Eric. Godric's mind was an island of calm in the center, while one of the vampires hummed and buzzed with anxiety. Since all the humans seemed to be there for predictable reasons—self-destructive fantasies, idle curiosity, commitment to the "dark side" of life—Carly focused her attention on the anxious vampire.

The sound of his mind reminded her of a buzz saw that sang out frenetically at a higher and higher pitch, before bottoming out into a loud thumping that accelerated and slowed over and over in cycles. As she concentrated, the thumping began to become more regular and take on the shapes of human sounds. Soon, the sounds became words: _Sophie-Ann, Hadley, Bon Temps, Authority, treason, fear..._

Carly couldn't make out sentences or make any meaning from what he was thinking, but she kept listening nonetheless. _Hadley, cousin, cousin, Hadley, Bon Temps, home, Lorena, Edgington, Edgington... Godric wants... Pam hates... Godric wants me... Pam hates me..._

As the words settled into sentences, Carly realized that the vampire was thinking of two or three things at a time. Perhaps the humming and buzzing that she heard from vampires resulted from the layers upon layers of competing thoughts and memories. As soon as Carly heard the words "Hadley" and "Bon Temps" she began to worry for Sookie's safety and feel overwhelming guilt for never having followed up with Sookie. After Carly had directed Hadley back home, Sookie had sent a little thank you note to the coroner's office.

_Dear Carly,_

_I'm sorry you couldn't make it out for dinner, but thank you SO MUCH for bringing Hadley back to us. Hadley told us you were to thank, and the whole family, hell, the whole town, thanks you for bringing her back to us. Please, when you get a chance, send me your phone number so that we can talk. I have so many questions to ask you. I just don't know where to start. I hope that I didn't scare you off. _

_Love, Sookie_

The last sentence reminded Carly of all of her own sorrows, of all the loneliness she'd struggled with over the years. Carly grieved for Sookie and felt they could be good friends, but feared to become involved with her. After all, her ancestors had warned her—directly-to avoid Sookie and Bon Temps. The Magister had told her that he would watch out for Sookie, and Eric was directed to keep vampires out of Bon Temps, which he had over the last month.

Now, with an emissary from Bon Temps, who was thinking of Hadley, headed to Russell Edgington's court, with the word treason on his mind, Carly felt compelled to intervene somehow.

Without realizing, she'd finished her sketch of the signet ring and loved what she'd drawn as she'd focused on William Compton. She'd use the few minutes she had to send the image to Abdullah who might be able to pass it on to a jeweler. Back in Eric's office, Carly took a moment to specify the depth she wanted in the agate, and then she faxed the drawing, along with a quick note, to Abdullah's gallery fax number. As Carly made her way back into the bar, her cellphone rang. It was Abdullah.

"Hi Abdullah. Why are you at the gallery so late?" Carly answered the phone with a combination of cheer and disbelief.

"My darling child, Carly, as the show approaches, I have had to start keeping my clients' hours. So I'm here, in my gallery, at midnight, while my friends squabble over wall space." Abdullah chuckled heartily. "When I saw your fax, I thought I would call you right away. A ring, Carly? A beautiful gift. I know the perfect jeweler, and he owes me a favor."

"Thank you so much, Abdullah, I really appreciate it."

"I will call him now, so that you have it when you come to visit."

"I think you can let him sleep, Abdullah." Carly saw Eric out in the bar turn toward her and jerk his head slightly. "Why is he up at this hour?"

"Oh, he's not," Abdullah laughed heartily. "But I have, what is it called, a desire to make other suffer as I do."

"You're too much, Abdullah." Carly could just picture Abdullah sitting among a pack of jealous vampire artists who argued over gallery real estate while he woke a jeweler just so he wasn't the only human awake. "Thank you again, but I have to go."

"Ciao, my friend." Abdullah hung up, and Carly went out to join Eric.

Without hesitating, Eric took her hand. Although most vampires weren't demonstrative, unless they were feeding on a human, Eric seemed to enjoy holding onto her. And after what they learned this morning, Carly understood another reason why he might want to keep her near.

Eric introduced her to Compton. "Bill Compton, may I introduce my bonded, Carly."

Compton, who seemed to have an affected southern demeanor, nodded and said, "The pleasure is all mine."

As Compton spoke, Carly raised her eyes to him and said, as demurely as she could muster, "Hello, Mr. Compton." Immediately, she lowered her eyes, and returned to tune into Compton's mind, which by now, had settled into a clear sentential pattern, although she felt the thoughts were still fragmented and incomplete. "Eric Northman has a bonded. Surprised. Pretty girl wears too much perfume. Don't know how he can stand it. Where is Hadley now? I want that cousin. Sophie-Ann is gone, but that might be special. And if I can take her, I can move up. The authority promised me advancement if I brought down Sophie-Ann. Don't know why they put in an ancient—another ancient. Two side by side. How will I advance? Can't get past Eric Northman anyway—he could have killed me, but he let me flee with Lorena."

Carly squeezed Eric's hand and thought as hard as she could, _Eric, can you hear me? Put your arm around me if you can hear me._

Eric drew her closer and put his arm around her.

_Compton wants Hadley's cousin Sookie in Bon Temps. He thinks she can help him get ahead with the authority. The authority wanted him to bring down Sophie-Ann. Now he's confused because they put Godric in. All he wants to do is advance himself with them. We have to protect Sookie—the Magister said we had to keep vampires away from Bon Temps._

"So Bill," Eric said smoothly, "what kind of work were you doing for Sophie-Ann?"

Compton stared at Eric, and Carly tried to differentiate between what he planned to say and what was true. He thought, _I need him to trust me, so I'll tell him the truth._

"As you know, Sheriff, our late monarch rarely left her palace, so she left it to me to find her 'new blood', so to speak." Compton paused for a moment and then said, "I was one of her procurers."

"She had quite a few..." Eric licked his lips, "tasty morsels at court, as I recall. So you brought them to her?"

"Yes, many of them." Compton thought, _Why does he ask about her humans? Hadley...where did Hadley go?_

"One, I recall," Eric chuckled, "nearly cost me my life. A pretty girl, blond and bubbly, who smelled just wonderful. But I came to my senses, thanks to my bonded, before I trespassed and earned Sophie-Ann's wrath."

_Fuck, what does he know about Hadley? Could he smell the fairy on her? _"I don't recall their names, Sheriff. Once they were on the menu, I paid them little regard."

Carly concentrated as much as she could on Eric and thought clearly, _He knows Hadley comes from a fairy family_.

Eric squeezed her tightly.

"I just wondered where you found such a farm-girl in the middle of New Orleans." Eric smirked. "My dear Carly has an open mind, and a sense of adventure, so I might try to find her one to play with." Eric pulled her hair back and kissed her ostentatiously.

_Disgusting man. Flaunting her in front of us. How can he stand that smell on her? Why is he asking about Hadley? Took me a month to get that girl looking right. Addict, whore. Couldn't take her to the queen like that, no matter how good she smelled. Dumb as dirt too. She was just starting to open up about her family when Sophie-Ann died. So damn hard to glamour the girl._ "It was just luck, I suppose. Saw her on Bourbon Street."

"Well, perhaps we'll have some luck at Mardi Gras. Or we'll just have to find out what town the little grass-fed sow was from, now won't we." Eric shifted his attention back to Godric, and suggested, "Perhaps you'll find some records for the girl. It looked like she was well tended to. Maybe she has a sister for us and a cousin or two for you. I know you'd prefer to have one of each."

"Eric," Godric replied, "I prefer to find my own meals. But thank you for thinking of my pleasures."

_How does he know all this? It's almost like he's talking about Sookie and her brother. I'll have to stay away from them until I'm done with Russell Edgington. I won't risk it. Maybe I can throw him off._ "I recall the creature now. Hadley. Yes, she was from Little Rock, Arkansas." _There have to people who look like Hadley in Little Rock. _"Perhaps I could retrieve some of her relatives for you before I begin with Edgington."

"No, Compton," Godric took over the discussion. "You will keep your primary residence in New Orleans and fly back and forth to Jackson. As you will certainly recognize, I must keep a close eye on your movements. In fact, I have tired of small talk. You will come back to Eric's office with me, and we will share blood. I will know where you are and how your discussions are going."

"Your majesty," Bill hesitated. "I would prefer not to do so."

"It is a condition of the position." Godric answered him and then added in a menacing tone, "I have many positions to fill in my regime. If you would prefer to staff my dungeon, I can arrange that as well."

Bill bowed his head, seeming to admit his defeat. "As you wish, your majesty."

"Let us do this now, and then you can remain in the club to feed."

Godric turned toward Eric's office and retreated to it. Bill followed along, dejected.

"You amaze me, Carly," Eric whispered in her ear. "Our conversation has had two positive results tonight."

Carly looked into Eric's deep blue eyes and thought, _Compton is a lap dog and Sookie is safe._

"Exactly, my dear." Eric kissed her again and then picked her up and moved to the stage, where he sat ostentatiously on his throne. As they agreed, Carly waited for his instructions. Eric snapped his fingers at Pam, who brought out a large velvet cushion and placed it at Eric's feet. Once the cushion was fully extended, Pam said, "I hope you like it," and winked.

Carly laughed, although she also felt that her mother would be horrified, when she saw that "Carly" was embroidered across the cushion in gold thread. "Was that necessary, Eric?"

"I couldn't resist. I ordered it last night while you were asleep."

Carly sank into the cushion and leaned against Eric's legs. She wasn't entirely comfortable, in any regard, but she determined that she'd negotiate for something more comfortable after a few more visits to the club. Pam brought out another, even more ornate chair, and placed it in the absolute center of the stage, and Godric took it.

Bill Compton walked out into the club, where he took a seat at the bar. Carly had lost concentration because of the cushion, but she was certain she knew what Compton was thinking. "Now I'm fucked."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Awakening from a strangely sound sleep in total darkness, Carly felt around the bed to try to orient herself to her surroundings. She had no recollection of the previous evening beyond reclining on her velvet cushion at Eric's feet. She recalled, vaguely, hearing bits and pieces of a conversation between Eric and Godric about New Orleans and the challenges Godric would face as king, before she stuffed plugs in her ears and went to sleep. With their acute hearing, vampires tolerated the excruciatingly loud music comparatively well, Carly thought, since she was fairly miserable after comparatively little time.

Once she found the edge of the bed, Carly maneuvered to the bathroom, where she took care of her "scheduled maintenance" and put on a robe. Eric didn't keep a clock in his bedroom, so she had to go out into his main living area to puzzle out what time it was. Although she'd slept all the day before, she couldn't afford to keep vampire hours all the time. The medical examiner's office, while flexible because of her "gifts," still needed her to put in eight hours every day during the coming week, since she'd be departing soon for New York City to attend Abdullah's gallery opening. But once she was dressed and ready, she'd be heading home for the rest of the day, and then back to work the next.

Carly would drive one of Eric's cars over to her place, where he'd pick it up after getting back from New Orleans Monday night. Eric was to accompany Godric as he made his way to his new capitol, but Carly was staying in Shreveport. Once the palace was fully remodeled, Godric planned to have a large party, one that would include local human leaders and philanthropists as well.

Once she was dressed, she looked for Eric's car keys, which he usually left for her on the kitchen counter in such circumstances. Beneath the keyring was a note:

Dearest Carly, If tonight were not going to be so difficult, I would bring you, but I fear that your memories of New Orleans are too clouded by our last moments with Sophie-Ann. I hope to make better memories with you in that grand city someday. Please drive my Corvette carefully. Pam may ask you to stop by Fangtasia tonight, just to maintain continuity, but do not feel obliged to stay longer than you wish. You need your rest for when I return. -Eric.

_Terrific_, Carly thought. _So now I'm part of the furniture of Fangtasia._

Carly was craving a more substantial southern breakfast than the cereal Eric kept around for her, so she headed toward the nearest Waffle House. It would probably be crowded on a Sunday morning, or early Sunday afternoon, she realized, but there were usually seats at the counter, she rationalized.

As she drove toward the Waffle House, Carly noticed two buildings in a row that she'd never paid attention to, probably because she always drove this way in the dark—an elementary school and a nursing home, which were side by side. All the playground equipment, athletic fields, and parking lots were on the side of the school opposite the nursing home, so Carly assumed that the folks in the nursing home wouldn't be terribly afflicted by the noise inevitable to an elementary school.

Cars filled the elementary school parking lot, and bouncy houses and carnival games dotted the athletic field. According to signs in front of the school and at the corner, the crowds were due to the Shreveport Community Festival being held at the school. Carly pulled into the Waffle House parking lot and decided she'd walk around the festival once she'd eaten.

After a satisfying breakfast—with eggs, a waffle, and ham—Carly moved her car to the elementary school parking lot and started walking around. The crowd outside emanated unrestrained, childish joy, as the waves of enthusiasm rolled off children who bounced themselves silly inside inflatable playhouses and the parents sat by watching their kids and chatting with other parents.

"Do you have a program of events, ma'am?" a teenaged volunteer asked.

"No." Carly took one from the girl's hand.

"Well, we have lots of booths inside too—opportunities to volunteer, churches, vendors. Enjoy yourself!" The pixie bounced away toward another empty-handed pedestrian.

Carly strolled toward the school building, past booths set up for school fund-raising, and paused for a moment near a pet adoption booth. A small group of women were trying to keep a pack of four dogs separated. Anxiety flooded off the volunteers as they held the dogs at arms length while straining to smile and look enthusiastic about them. All the volunteers clearly feared the dogs they held—most of them pit bulls or large crosses. The dogs were equally afraid, so their snouts kept smelling the air and they scratched at the ground beneath them. As Carly approached the dogs, she sensed their hopelessness that their circumstances would change and their fear of the volunteers who held them. All the dogs, Carly knew, had been abused, although their external wounds had healed. One of them, a brindle-coated pit bitch stood nervously and stared at Carly. As she focused on dog, waves of rage toward humans spilled out of her—vague memories of the cries of her pups as some were drowned or as others were thrown into fighting rings.

"Oh, baby," Carly reached out her hand toward the dog, who backed away. Carly sent visions of her own dogs to this deeply traumatized creature, Carly's own memories of helping her oldest dog give birth and then assisting as the puppies grew into happy and healthy dogs who moved in with area families. Carly infused the visions with love and empathy, and wished, desperately, that she could replace this traumatized dog's memories with those of her own dogs. Finally, the bitch's eyes closed slightly, and she sunk to the ground, allowing Carly to pet her lovingly.

"That's right, sweetheart, you don't have to hurt." Without realizing it, tears streamed down her own cheeks and the volunteers stared as the brindle rolled onto her back to let Carly scratch her.

"Wow," the brindle's handler said quietly. "What did you do?"

Carly looked up into the shocked woman's face. "I've always had dogs, except when I've lived away from home. I guess she knows how much I miss them."

"Whatever you did," one of the others, a statuesque blond in her fifties, said, "can you do it to the others?"

"It would help," Carly said, "if you all relaxed around them. Try trusting them a little."

The brindle's handler responded antagonistically, "These are strong dogs, ma'am. I don't know if you realize..."

Carly cut her off. "Please, call me Carly. Dogs are only as cruel as the people who have them."

"They're rescue dogs. People have been cruel to them," she responded.

"You're not. You're trying to find them loving homes," Carly whispered to the next dog, a smoky-coated male. This dog hadn't been around fighting, but it had been chained outside and inconsistently fed, so fear and longing struggled for supremacy inside the dog's mind. It was desperate to trust, but reluctant to. Carly spoke to it, "You just need someone who will spoil you rotten, don't you?" When it sniffed her hand, Carly began petting it and sending it visions of the treats she used to give her dogs when they ran the obstacle course she set up for them. Beneath her hands, the dog relaxed into a calm and submissive state.

The third, muzzled mixed breed growled at Carly slightly as she approached it, although it cowered more than positioning to attack. Carly stood and addressed the dog, "So what's your story, huh?" Staring into the dog, all she saw was darkness, and the sound of gunshots and screaming. This dog had been locked inside a blacked-out apartment, chained to the wall, and encouraged to bark at every sound.

"She was locked in an apartment." The dog's handler started to tell her story, "And found after her owner had been murdered."

Loneliness and alienation drove this dog, who wanted nothing more than company. Carly thought how much this creature would enjoy living in a happy pack like the one she had on her farm when she was a girl. She also thought about the dogs she'd seen in Sweden, barking, yapping, playing sled dogs who loved nothing more than to run. After sniffing Carly's hand tentatively, the dog stretched up to be pet. "That's a good girl," Carly whispered. "You're just lonely. Why don't you make some friends?" Carly reached with her other hand to pet the brindle who sat nearby. "Why don't you two make friends for a little while?"

The handler said, shortly, "She's muzzled because she's snapped at other dogs."

"Only because she doesn't know how to relate." Carly emptied her mind and imagined herself as a conduit between the two dogs, the frustrated mother who'd been deprived of her children and the lone guard, who had spent her life in darkness. Carly asked the brindle's handler, "Can I have her leash?"

Without moving her hand, Carly grasped the offered leash and left it slack. After a few moments, while Carly petted them both slowly, imagining a cable of loss drawing them together into friendship, the brindle rose, and took a few tentative steps toward the muzzled bitch. The brindle nuzzled her shoulder, and the other dog sank onto her back as the brindle started to lick her neck and shoulder. Finally, the brindle collapsed down onto the muzzled dog and laid her head down to comfort her. Carly said, "There you go, momma, let her know how love feels."

When Carly handled back the leash, she noticed that all the volunteers were misty eyed or openly crying. Carly turned her attention to the last dog, a hyper little terrier who had been running in circles around the kennel that housed her. "So why is he in a kennel?"

"He's a runner," the blond reported. "We're afraid he'd get away."

"Oh, do you need a job," Carly asked. She could see right away how this creature would exhaust anyone who owned it. "Are you a hunter?" Without any difficulty, Carly could see the little bathroom where this dog had spent the first year of its life, running back and forth, chewing on its paws and tail in frustration. "Have you called any exterminators?"

"Why?" The volunteers all exclaimed in some horror.

"No," Carly shook her head and her hands, mortified that they'd thought she'd suggested euthanizing the dog. "These dogs are intended to ferret out vermin. An exterminator might want a dog to help, especially if his clients want a creature trapped rather than killed. Like squirrels."

They finally seemed to realize what she was talking about. "That's a good idea."

Somewhat exhausted by the emotions she'd experienced, but exhilarated nonetheless by connecting with these creatures that she loved so much, Carly said, "I hope you have better luck now with their adoptions. Don't be afraid of them. They're all good dogs. And I think you can take off her muzzle."

The muzzled dog's handler removed the restraint and petted her head. "Oh, there you go, sweetie." The muzzled dog, now free to open its mouth, started licking the brindle's coat.

"Carly," the blond volunteer spoke, "would you be interested in volunteering with us?"

Carly thought of her work, and her strange schedule, and her beloved Eric, and didn't know what kind of time she could dedicate honestly. "I'm pretty busy with a new job and helping at my boyfriend's new club, but could I get your card?"

"New club?"

"Yeah," Carly lied, knowing that these women would all cavil at the disclosure that she was a vampire's girlfriend, "he's opening a nightclub in Bossier City in a few weeks. He's still fighting about the name with his partners."

Although she had been ignoring the women's thoughts, preferring to focus on the dogs', Carly felt a wave of relief from the blond, who had begun thinking of Fangtasia the moment Carly mentioned a "new club."

"It was nice meeting all of you, and I'll think about volunteering." Carly smiled and fled before she could catch any other more judgmental thoughts than those she'd already seen. Apparently, most folks from Shreveport imagined Fangtasia to be a vampire sex club filled with drugs and debauchery. Of course, Carly hadn't been awake long enough inside the club to support any counterarguments to the claims.

Signs directed visitors toward the school cafeteria, which was lined with booths from all sorts of different groups—Kiwanis Club, Optimists, Elks all conferred with one another in a "service-oriented" corner. The other booths seemed to be more evenly distributed through the hall. Perhaps having a line of churches that were all competing for members seemed to confrontational to the organizers. Carly ignored most of the churches, since she'd only ever attended the Marble Collegiate Church in New York City, which was her family's church going back as far as anyone would care to remember. Despite Edna's agnosticism, Carly's mother remembered Norman Vincent Peale fondly; he led the church for fifty years and was the only minister Carly's grandparents ever knew. Now that Carly knew that she was a valkyrie, she'd need time to reassess her quiet agnosticism and formulate a more thoughtful position about religion. Nevertheless, she doubted that any protestant or evangelical pastor in Shreveport would be much help.

One booth caught her eye, however. A tidily dressed husband and wife sat in front of a huge folding banner, like that you'd see at a trade show, and behind a sign that read "New Congregation Forming."

Carly couldn't resist the temptation to see what this brightly advertised group was all about. In her limited experience, the glossier the advertising materials for any church, the more likely that the church was really a business, or a cult, or both. Striding up with a smile on her face, Carly asked, "So you're forming a new congregation? What denomination is the 'Fellowship of the Sun'?"

The husband spoke first, and as soon as he opened his mouth, Carly tuned into his thoughts to do a comparison. He said, "Reverend Newlin was ordained as a Southern Baptist Minister, but he and his congregants have renamed themselves 'The Fellowship of the Sun' so that they can respond to the emerging threat of vampires to our society." He thought, _Damn she's hot. Lanky too. Newlin better be right that women like heroes. Once we start getting rid of these vampires, women will flock to us._

"Umm," Carly paused, having difficulty reconciling the two voices emanating from this conventional suburban man. "So where is this church?"

"The home church is in Dallas, but I was just transferred here, so we're going to build a new congregation. We'll start with something simple, just with a satellite feed to Dallas, but if we get big enough, the younger Reverend might come out to help or train a pastor in their new tradition."

"Okay," Carly tried to go back to the beginning of the conversation. "So, you really won't have a church? You'll just all get together and watch Newlin's sermons? Like those are on TV already?"

The wife piped in at this point, "It's about fellowship. We can all gather together and seek shelter with one another from the Satanic forces that are gathering."

"There are Satanic forces gathering?" Carly could barely contain herself, because she hadn't even heard the name "Satan" in all the time she'd been around vampires. When Eric and Godric were turned, they were pagans, and she knew that the Magister and Jean-Jacques had both been Christian clergy when they were turned, and seemed to remain just as virtuous as one would expect medieval Christians to be.

The wife stared at Carly intently, concern spreading across the woman's face. "Vampires are agents of Satan."

"Really?" Carly tried to keep from smiling as she tuned into the woman's thoughts. The wife's thoughts were clear: _I think we can get through to this poor girl. Any soul we save will be glory to God. Maybe I can make up for losing my sweet little sister. I have to help make the world safe for my baby._ Carly wanted this woman to vocalize her anxieties, more than anything to get a sense of the forces that were gathering against vampires, against her Eric and his maker. "How do you know?"

"Satan is the tempter." The good wife continued, "He approached Eve at night, lured her with the promise of immortality and god-like power. Vampires accepted Satan's bargain and live a cursed existence away from God's light. If we seek shelter in God's light, we will be saved."

"Interesting..." Carly turned her attention back to the husband, whose interior monologue focused primarily on Carly's desirability in comparison with his newly pregnant wife. "And you think you can be a hero if you make the world safe from vampires?"

_What the hell? Did I say that out loud? What tits this girl has. _"A man is only a hero if he does God's work."

Carly knew she'd shaken the hypocrite by tuning into his interior monologue and that she could have a little fun at his expense. "So you're going to be God's warriors?"

"Yes, that's why we sing 'Onward Christian Soldiers.'" The wife smiled enthusiastically.

"So you're going to declare war on vampires?" Carly looked directly at the husband, "To save your women and bring them home to you?"

_Maybe this girl understands me. I've never been able to say these things to Sheila...maybe this girl wants a hero. _"Well, vampires are corrupting young women, bringing them down into the gutter."

Sheila looked down at her lap and started to trouble her hands, wringing her fingers anxiously and sadly.

"Is that what happened?" Carly finally overheard the husband's name from Sheila's sad thoughts: _Bob should have been there for her...for me...but he failed us both._ "Is that what happened, Bob? Did you lose a girl to a vampire?"

Sheila looked at her husband fiercely. "No, not to a vampire. My little sister was on drugs, and she called us from the bus station in Amarillo and asked for help getting back home. Bob wouldn't go get her. Said she needed to learn her lesson."

"You know that wasn't my fault, honey." Bob stared at his wife and then turned his attention back to Carly. "How did you know about that? How did you know my name?"

"You told it to me, Bob. Don't you remember? You and Sheila introduced yourself when we started talking." Carly said earnestly, in a way that made them believe her. Carly knew she could have forced them to believe, could have made them remember something entirely different than what had happened, but she wanted this man to suffer, which he wouldn't if she rewrote his memories.

"Yeah, um..." Bob paused. "I'm sorry. It's just hard for us to talk about this." Bob's thoughts poured out of him without any restraint, accompanied by images that made Carly want to kill him first and call the police on him second. _Little whore got what she deserved...willing to betray her sister like that letting me touch her like that. Good girl wouldn't let a man do that...Good girl wouldn't let her sister's husband touch her like that...all her fault._

"Sheila," Carly stared at the woman, "do you work outside the home?"

"No, why?" Sheila's innocent eyes looked up at Carly with anxiety.

"You might want to learn to count on yourself instead of on this scum who took advantage of your sister and who will take advantage of the next wounded woman who comes near him." Carly turned back to Bob, with anger in her voice, and said, "You'll never be anyone's hero, Bob."

Opening up her wallet, Carly pulled out cash that had been sitting there since she returned from Sweden-she estimated it was about four hundred dollars-and handed it to Sheila. "Go home to your family before he lets you down even worse."

Carly walked away from the booth and tried to forget how much she'd interfered in two people's lives without knowing them. But she felt invigorated, strong, and powerful, even if she might have revealed too much of her abilities to someone who wished nothing more than to start killing vampires and forcing himself on the damsels in distress he found along the way. If Bob was the best recruiter Newlin's people could field in Shreveport, and she'd just ruined his life with a ten minute conversation, Eric and Godric had some time to plan before the hate church got a foothold in Louisiana.

Resolved to brief Eric and Godric as thoroughly as possible, Carly tried to negotiate an exit without having to pass by the Fellowship of the Sun table, which was now occupied by two people who were screaming, crying, and turning over tables as a small crowd gathered around them. Carly hated how much she could learn about people's lives from brief interactions, how she now knew about Sheila's feelings of inadequacy, about her long quest to get pregnant, about how Bob had molested her sister shortly after they married when the poor high school girl had sought help with an overzealous boyfriend who was pressuring her to have sex before she wanted. Despite having access to that information, Carly didn't feel overwhelmed by it, just sorrowful for Sheila, who now grieved for her marriage while she still mourned her late sister, run over by a car while trying to hitch-hike from Amarillo to Dallas.

Trying to set Bob and Sheila's domestic affairs, which were escalating into a multi-booth fight, aside as she made her way to the other exit, Carly found herself in front of a table occupied by a wheel-chair bound resident of the nursing home next door and a middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform and an elderly, but not infirm, woman wearing a "volunteer" tag on her blouse.

The "volunteer" asked Carly quietly, clearly trying to hide her interest in the local gossip, "Do you know what all the ruckus is down there?"

"I fear I may have caused it," Carly suggested sheepishly.

The elderly woman smiled in reply and then asked, "What do yo mean, sweetie?"

Carly tried to formulate a response as quickly as she could and reported, "I called her husband on some nonsense, and I guess it let her see what a creep he really is." By the time Carly finished her explanation, two police officers were on the scene to inquire whether Sheila needed any assistance getting away from Bob, who was now raging and pulling apart the booths around theirs.

The woman in the wheel-chair spoke up, "I think you may have saved her a lot of trouble in the long run, honey."

"I hope." Carly looked at the table, which included advertising materials about the nursing home as well as a "wish-list" for volunteers and donations. "So, my name is Carly Michael. It's nice to meet you."

"Hello, Carly," the volunteer replied. "I'm Evelyn Brown, this is one of our nurses, Winnie Campbell, and a long-time resident, Martha Connolly."

Carly nodded at all three women and said, "It's a pleasure to meet all of you." She shook their hands and with each smile and handshake they exchanged, Carly felt a surge of energy, felt as if the room suddenly filled with oxygen, or as if she was suddenly lighter. It felt almost as if she'd consumed some drug.

Winnie, the nurse, asked with a lilting Jamaican accent, "You're not from Shreveport, are you, Carly?"

"No," Carly giggled, "takes one to know one, huh? I'm originally from New York."

Winnie laughed heartily, "Oh yes, no one ever imagines I'm from Shreveport. No, no, they don't."

Carly felt the bond between these three women, even though they seemed to be from radically different backgrounds, and she felt great sympathy with them.

Evelyn picked up where Winnie left off. "I guess none of us are locals, then, are we ladies." Evelyn sought affirmation from her fellows. "Martha, weren't you born in Ireland?"

"Oh, yes, dear, but it's been almost a hundred years." Martha smiled sweetly at Carly. "But I feel like I've been in our home for a hundred years, too."

"Don't exaggerate, Marta," Evelyn scolded gently. "She just wishes she could get out and about more."

"And that there were more people to talk to other than you two!" Martha said in a voice loud enough to startle Carly.

"That's one reason we're looking for volunteers today." Evelyn pushed the "volunteer wish-list" toward Carly.

Taking the list, Carly looked it over. The nursing home was looking for birthday party assistants, karaoke leaders, bingo callers, scrapbook instructors, story-tellers, knitters, and painting and drawing instructors. Carly looked at the three women and asked, "How much of a time commitment are you asking for from volunteers?"

"Oh, really, whatever you would like to spend, we're happy for volunteers," Evelyn assured.

"So someone could come in and do a drawing class once a week for a few hours, maybe before dinner?"

"Do you draw?"

"Yes," Carly responded, wondering how much she should disclose about the nature of her work. "I do portraits, professionally."

"So nice," Winnie exclaimed. "Our residents would love that, especially if you could bring some in to show. We also have lots of show and tell volunteers."

Carly didn't know why she was setting herself up to volunteer, but something about these women, about their vitality, and joy in life and in one another's company drew her in. She felt elated with them, and they seemed increasingly light and cheerful with her as they talked. Before Carly knew it, the four of them had been talking eagerly for two hours. By the time they finished their conversation, Carly felt as if she could fly, she felt so light. Her mood improved even more when Martha rose from her chair and summoned Carly over for a hug.

"Oh, Martha," Carly squeezed the fragile old woman, whose life full of happiness and sorrow, love and hard work flooded through her as they embraced. "It was such a pleasure to meet you."

"I'll be at your class, don't you worry," Martha patted Carly on the hand. "And I'll make sure every old lady comes to see your paintings."

Carly nearly floated out of the building, the drama from Bob and Sheila far behind her, seemingly without a care in the world. She drove out to the strip-mall that had a Michael's and a Kroger's grocery store in it, and shopped enthusiastically and purchased supplies for a class of twenty. She even bought some fruit and flowers the class could use as a still-life exercise.

At the grocery, she shopped with equal enthusiasm, suddenly wanting to bake soda bread, to make baked beans, and to roast jerk chicken. It was as if she were filled with a hundred long-lost childhoods that were desperately seeking comfort food. Once Carly was home, she set to work making the drawing kits and preheating the oven. By two in the morning, the euphoria finally subsided, and Carly was packing enough food for fifty people into the freezer and wondering what she was going to do with three loaves of soda bread.

As Carly settled down, trying to assess what had inspired the mania that consumed the last ten hours of her life, Eric called on her house phone.

"Hello, lover," Eric whispered. "I had to call and find out what had you so excited when I wasn't with you."

"Hi, Eric. You could feel that?" Carly wondered if he'd known since sundown how energetic she'd been, how consumed she'd been in cooking and planning.

"Yes. It even spilled over a little to me." Eric laughed gently. "We got a lot done tonight. Godric hadn't expected us to finish until dawn. What happened?"

"I'm not quite sure, really."

"If I didn't know better," Eric's voice sounded stern, "I would think you were on something."

"You wouldn't be alone." Carly hesitated. "I don't know really what happened. I stopped at a community fair and met some women from a nursing home..."

"I've rarely met drug dealers from nursing homes," Eric contributed facetiously.

"No. I talked with them, and then I started feeling euphoric, almost like I was high. But I got energetic, and wanted to cook, so I did."

"Do you think they might have had some kind of topical medication that you reacted to?" Eric asked seriously.

"No. We shook hands, but they all seemed healthy." Carly thought back to the interaction at the elementary school and recalled, "But they seemed to feel better too after talking with me."

Carly looked around her kitchen and then remembered that, although she'd cooked furiously, she hadn't eaten anything. Despite not having eaten since breakfast, Carly felt sated, without any hunger or thirst at all. As she walked around the kitchen, still holding onto the cordless phone, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

"Shit."

"Carly?" Eric sounded increasingly concerned. "What's wrong?"

Carly stared at herself in the mirror, touching the taut skin on her face and running her fingers through her hair, almost an inch longer than it had been during the morning. The backs of her hands were smooth, entirely vein-less, and her nails were long.

"I look terrific." Carly whispered breathlessly.

"I know, darling, but what's wrong?"

"No, Eric, I look younger than I did this morning." Carly's voice trailed off as she looked at herself carefully in the mirror.

"I'm coming home now, Carly. You're frightening me."

"Okay. That's good." Carly hung up the phone and then went into the bathroom at herself more carefully. Her phone rang again, and Carly picked it up and said, absently, "Yeah."

"Carly," her aunt, Arianna, said sternly, "where have you been?"

"What?"

"You're drunk, Carly. I just checked in on you, like I've started doing recently," which was news to Carly, "and you've eaten way too much too quickly. Where have you been?"

"An elementary school, aunt. I went to a community fair."

"Where, Auschwitz? Carly, it's like you've sucked down fifty deaths all in one gulp. You can't do that to yourself without preparation."

"What?" Carly felt dizzy. She remembered what Arianna had said about "Not eating properly anymore," and how she had started showing her age. Arianna told Carly in prior conversations that she didn't think that she consumed the spirits of the dead in the same way that true valkyries did, but what she was saying on the phone suggested something entirely different.

"I met a few old ladies who were from a nursing home."

"They must have had death clinging to them..." Arianna trailed off and started mumbling. "Well, that makes some sense now, but she's got to be careful. Carly, what did you make after you met them?"

"I cooked...a lot...I think I have a fridge full of food now." Carly staggered back into the living room, now feeling as if she were drunk.

"That's harmless." Arianna sighed. "How long were you around these women?"

"About two hours."

"Are you going to go to this nursing home again?"

"I'm going to volunteer next Saturday afternoon." Carly paused and asked, "Is that okay?"

"Yes, but don't touch anyone. You'll have the same feelings...the euphoria, elation, and the need to create, but you shouldn't touch anyone or go into any of the rooms."

"Why?"

"Because the death builds up there, clogs up the facility, clings to the people who are still there, and if you start moving through the whole building on one visit, it will be too much."

"How do you know this?" Carly was limp, seated on her sofa, imagining corridors filled with blackened vapors that prevented people from moving through the building.

"I visit a few hospitals each week to keep them clean, but I need much more than you can even consume, dear niece." Arianna sighed, "You will do a great deal of good for them, but you can't overwhelm yourself, because you'll start to draw attention to yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you're mad."

"No," Carly closed her eyes, realizing that was exactly what Eric now thought as he flew back from New Orleans. "When did you start checking on me?"

Arianna took a deep breath on the other end of the line. "When the ancestors told me to."

"What did they tell you?"

"That your powers were growing quickly, although you seemed to have them under control, even the fire, until tonight."

Eric burst in the door as Carly was about to ask her aunt about the flames that protected the two of them. "I have to go, Arianna. I need to explain all this to Eric."

"Explain what?" Eric walked toward Carly tentatively. "Who was that?"

"My aunt." Carly stood, unsteadily, and moved to embrace him. "She called right after I got off the phone with you. She knew something was wrong."

"Did she explain it to you?" Eric's voice reflected his worry.

"The old women," Carly explained, "from the nursing home had death clinging to them, and I consumed it somehow, like a real valkyrie, and I guess I got high on it. She said it was like I'd been around fifty deaths all at one sitting."

"And now?"

"Now, I just feel like I've come down, exhausted."

Eric gathered her up in his arms. "Then I'll put you to bed."

Carly put her hand on his chest, "Does Godric need you to go back to New Orleans?"

"No," Eric shook his head, "He's done with me for now, although he wants you to come down and interview the humans who will be working for him."

"Anytime..." Carly yawned. "I'll do whatever I can for him."

By the time Eric had Carly's shirt off, she was sound asleep and dreaming.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Her breathing coordinated with the sound of the rocking chair as it strained the boards beneath it. The squeaking and flexing began slowly as she breathed in the smoke, which stung her eyes, already struggling to focus, because the light was too bright too keep them open.

Through tears and smoke, she caught images of people moving around the landscape without direction or intention although they were so over-illuminated she couldn't discern their features. Slowly, the sounds of singing, low at first but then slowly at a higher pitch, reached her ears.

She continued to rock until she looked to her right, where she watched Eric as he strolled idly onto the porch, his blond hair radiant in the light. With a toothpick between his lips, he smiled at her languidly and said, "Hi there, lover. Missed me."

She stood to kiss him, but he was gone by the time she reached that part of the porch.

"I'm over here, lover." Without any discernible movement, Eric was behind her and brought his hands up to her shoulders. "I move to fast, don't I?"

Turning again to face him, Carly grabbed for him, but he was gone again.

From behind her, she heard Godric whisper, "You can move just as fast as he can, if you try hard enough, Carly."

Then Eric was in her arms... "I guess you caught me, lover."

With those few words, Carly awakened from her dream and considered whether it had any meaning. She never felt agitated or transported elsewhere, but she did feel disquieted at the sun-saturated landscape. Remembering the halo of light that enveloped Eric's blond hair, Carly turned to admire him. She felt a little guilty that she'd provided such a cold welcome for him, since he'd rushed frantically back from New Orleans to be with her. _I'll make it up for him tonight_, she thought and planned to pick up something memorable for him.

Stretching, Carly felt strong and refreshed, but then realized that she had awakened from her dream rather than from her alarm clock. The clock read 6:55 AM, and Carly was astonished that she felt so good with only a few hours of sleep, since she expected to feel a little hung-over after yesterday's apparent intoxication.

Carly didn't pay much attention to how she looked when she hopped in the shower or when she got out. Not until she stood in front of her wardrobe did Carly realize that she looked years younger, as young as she had when she'd begun graduate school. "Well, what the hell am I gonna do about this?" Carly could only imagine how her co-workers would react if she came into work perceptibly younger with, what she realized was about four inches more hair and extraordinarily long nails. After she dressed, Carly pinned up her hair and planned to get a trim, cut her nails back flush with her fingertips, and then broke out her make-up. Carly reasoned that dark circles under her eyes and overly thick lipstick might help add back the years that had disappeared. "Crap...now I just look like a hung-over teenager."

After some breakfast, wrote Eric a note:

Dear Eric,

Thank you, you kind, handsome, beloved creature. I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you an appropriate welcome last night, especially since you came home so swiftly to protect your valkyrie, who'd imbibed too much, of whatever it is valkyries drink up. I love you and can't wait to hear all about New Orleans. I also have to tell you about the dream I had of you—playing hide and go seek.

CM

Carly went back downstairs and put her note in Eric's hand. After a longing kiss on his forehead, Carly left for work, filled with anxiety that she'd be called upon to explain the changes in her appearance or that she'd spend all day fielding questions about opening weekend at Fangtasia. She was particularly anxious because a new pathology resident was scheduled to begin working with Dr. Watson-Linkmann.

All Carly's coworkers had come to terms with her intensity, her strange hours, and her vampire boyfriend, but Carly feared that the new resident might bristle against all three. Carly met her briefly the previous Monday when she came to introduce herself to the staff. The young man, Kumar Kamal, had extraordinarily good qualifications, but a curt, officious manner. As Ellen pointed out to Carly on more than one occasion, a medical examiner only needed to keep careful records, she or he didn't need to win a popularity contest.

More than anything, however, Carly was concerned how Dr. Kamal would react, as a Hindu, to Carly, and especially to her relationship with Eric. A few vampires had come forward in India, but quickly retreated back into the shadows, since vampires, as **Rakshasa** or Asura, featured prominently as the adversaries in Indian myth, legend, and religion. Although a few of these Indian vampires were characterized as benevolent warriors, or early converts to Buddhism, most mythological Indian vampires had few virtues—they were cannibalistic tyrants who laid waste to huge swaths of the Indus valley in the distant past. Few modern Indians were willing to take the risk that vampires were otherwise. Carly wondered whether Dr. Kamal, who seemed proud of his Indian heritage, would feel the same way. Of course, Carly might rarely encounter him, since she was back to digging through unidentified remains.

The Medical Examiner's office had gone through a few additional staff changes over the last month. The front office manager, Mabel, finally had a receptionist, a young woman named Aliya, a recent high-school graduate from Bossier City who seemed completely unperturbed by working at the Medical Examiner's office and dealing with a steady stream of police officers, doctors, and grieving families.

From the moment Carly walked in the door, Aliya was Carly's shadow. "You gotta tell us all about it girl. The paper says you got naked and let some man bite you!"

"Excuse me? Good morning," Aliya's unexpected greeting disoriented Carly. "What paper?"

"I thought you'd be too busy with that man o' yours to see it." Aliya ran back around her desk and started tearing her overstuffed purse. "I cut it out."

"Well, I wasn't naked, and the bite was just for show." No one from the human community should have known about Godric's arrival and the oaths sworn to him, so Carly was more than a little concerned at the newspaper coverage that seemed to have broken Eric's carefully orchestrated secrecy. "What does the paper say?"

Aliya read the news piece dramatically: "According to sources in attendance during the closed-door grand opening party, a young woman identified as the proprietor Eric Northman's significant other danced provocatively across the stage, knelt in front of a young vampire, who sources refused to name, disrobed and offered herself to him. After biting her neck violently, the young woman crawled to Northman's feet and collapsed where she remained for almost the entire evening."

"That's not news, Aliya," Carly chafed at the way she was described, "that's a gossip column."

"But is it true, Carly, did you really do that?" Aliya approached and moved to pull Carly's collar away from her neck.

Carly slapped Aliya's hand away gently, "Stop that. He didn't bite my neck."

"But you let him bite you?" Aliya's jaw hung open in astonishment and her comment couldn't have been timed more infelicitously. Just as the words "bite you" crossed the girl's lips, Dr. Kamal walked into the foyer, accompanied by Dr. Ellen Watson-Linkmann, Carly's friend and supervisor.

"Bite?" Dr. Kamal looked concerned as he sought a place in the conversation.

His new desire to participate in social life also infuriated Carly, because it guaranteed that she'd have to share the story with the entire staff, not just with Aliya.

As if on cue, Aliya turned around to the new pathologist, and reported, "Carly got herself bit by a vampire at this club opening!"

"A vampire?" Dr. Kamal's disapproval radiated from him so furiously, Carly just shut herself down and tried to get to her office.

"It was all theater, just for show. Like a dance." Carly glowered at Aliya. "Can I get to work now?"

"You weren't bitten?" Kamal wouldn't leave it behind until Carly explained everything.

Nevertheless, Carly promised herself, when she began her relationship with Eric, that she wouldn't lie to anyone. "It was my wrist," Carly displayed her left wrist, "but see, I'm fine." Staring at Ellen, willing her to help her out and end the interrogation, Carly said, "It was just supposed to be for locals, sort of ceremonial, theatrical. No one was supposed to talk about it. And it looks like they didn't talk about it accurately. It was all illusion and suggestion. Can I get to work?"

"Yikes, honey," Aliyah backed away and lowered her voice, "I just thought you'd like to hear about the article."

"I'm sure Eric's publicists got a copy. They're pretty determined. But thanks, Aliya, I appreciate it." Carly smiled pleasantly at Dr. Kamal and said, "Welcome. Not the first conversation you expected to have with the resident forensic anthropologist and artist, huh?"

"No." Kamal seemed chastened enough by her hostility to back away and allow Carly to pass through the doors toward her studio space.

"Well, have a good day, everybody," Carly called back as she passed through the door into the hall.

Once she reached her studio, turned on her computer and moved a few things around aimlessly, Carly rested her head in her hands. _You should have known better, Carly. You should have known there were reporters lurking around there. You're just lucky that no one gave them your name._ With a shiver, Carly realized that anyone who did would probably wind up with their head on a pike or hang from the wheel in the center of the Fangtasia basement for a year. That idea gave her little consolation, however, since she hoped she could bring out Eric's less murderous tendencies, not incite them in him.

Carly had no delusions about Eric's nature. He'd spent his human life as a warrior, so he was primed for bloodshed, but she also knew that he preferred resolutions to conflicts that increased his status and his fortunes more than he enjoyed simple blood-letting.

Resolving to hold her head high and answer "Yes, I did strip down to nearly nothing, and I looked damned good too," to any of Aliya's further queries about opening night at Fangtasia, Carly got on with her work.

Opening her email, Carly saw that she had a message from Ellen that included a forwarded email from the Washington County sheriff's office in Greenville, Mississippi, who requested that Carly examine bones discovered near a hunter's blind. She should expect a courier by noon to deliver them. As Carly cleared through her caseload, Ellen talked her up more and more to regional officials, since she feared that Carly might clear all the unidentified remains in Louisiana long before the grant was finished. In addition, Ellen had told her that she should move more slowly with older remains, since there weren't families who were actively grieving, because a 100% success rate seemed preposterous to any outside authorities. Although all of Carly's identifications of recently deceased individuals had been verified by additional means, Ellen thought that police and federal officials might begin to suspect some malfeasance if Carly moved too quickly and decisively.

As a result, Carly spent a great deal of her time sculpting or drawing portraits of people she'd already identified through her visions of their lives and deaths. Her current subject, an African-American man, whom she knew was Bertrand Phillips, had been found in a shallow grave in an empty lot in Baton Rouge that hadn't been tilled or disturbed since a factory's closing in 1980. When she first held his skull, a week and a half ago, the immense sorrow of his life flooded into her in a second, and she staggered, struggling to keep hold of his remains as she stumbled into her file cabinet.

All in one gasp, Carly experienced Bertrand's despair when his little brother was hit by a bus in St. Louis while his family was on their way to Chicago, one drop of in the flood that was the Great Migration north. She witnessed his mother's slow decline into alcoholism and his father's struggle to keep working, keep his children in school, and keep track of his increasingly wandering wife. And most startling, Carly felt every wound he received in Vietnam during his service and then his aimlessness as he returned home a veteran who struggled with his own drug addictions acquired in Indo-China and the frustrating final days homeless and searching for relief on the streets of Baton Rouge in the mid 1980s.

Carly was certain that Bertrand died in his sleep, because his final days were spent among friends, fellow veterans who had fallen on hard times and seethed with resentment at the VA for having abandoned them to their demons. Although she wouldn't be able to prove it, Carly knew that one of his friends had buried him and then moved on.

Few would likely still be alive to recognize Bertrand, and if they were, they wouldn't have missed him, so she worked hard on his portrait. Carly would likely be the only person to remember him as he was—deeply feeling, loyal to his friends, never angry, but weighed down by a lifetime of sadness, heartbreak, and bad luck.

Since she photographed her portraits as they moved through their stages of development, Carly thought that Bertrand's would be an excellent example to bring to the nursing home when she visited. After painting for an hour, trying to capture the vision of himself that he had when he'd been last in the VA for an infection, when he'd had a few weeks to sober up and find himself again, Carly went to see Ellen, who was going through procedures with Dr. Kamal.

Carly knocked on the doorjamb tentatively and said, "Excuse me, Ellen, do you have a second?"

"Is it private?" Ellen looked up at Carly pleasantly, but she wore a frustrated expression.

"No," Carly shook her head vigorously. "Just a question about printing and costs."

"Shoot." Ellen put down the papers in her hand and leaned back, clearly relieved to answer such a mundane question.

"I'm going to be volunteering at a nursing home—doing art classes. I'd like to use the portrait I'm working on as an example, and I'd like to print out the intermediate photos. Can I use the large-format printer for that? I'm happy to reimburse the office."

"I don't have a problem with it, but I don't know how much they cost." Ellen scowled. "Ask Tracy and see if she can get you numbers."

Dr. Kamal interjected with more disapproval. "You're going to take a forensic reconstruction to a nursing home?"

Ellen jumped to Carly's defense before she could respond. "He's not local and the grave's thirty years old. And it's not like a crime scene photo. It's really a beautiful portrait."

"But couldn't it be evidence at trial?" Dr. Kamal asked. "Shouldn't there be a clear chain of possession."

"It's not a murder," Carly asserted.

"You're not a pathologist," was Dr. Kamal's response.

Carly breathed in deeply, imagined the range of responses available to Eric, took some joy in imagining him pulling Kamal's spine out through his abdomen, and responded with a smile, "No offense, Dr. Kamal, but I'm a forensic anthropologist, not just an artist. I can recognize trauma related to cause of death, and there are no signs on the bones to indicate homicide, nor are there any soft tissues for a pathologist to examine."

"Did you sign the death certificate?" Kamal challenged.

"No," Ellen clearly decided not to let this continue. "The Baton Rouge ME signed the death certificate and ruled cause of death 'undetermined.'" Pointing at Carly, Ellen added, "Her word is good enough for me, and it was good enough for the Baton Rouge ME. He'll change the designation after we have an identity, so he only has to do the paperwork once."

Carly wasn't certain that Ellen was telling the truth, and she was too afraid of Ellen's real thoughts at that moment to take a look, but she appreciated Ellen's desire to show solidarity and her faith in Carly's abilities. Since Carly wanted the conversation to close, she smiled and said, "Thanks, Ellen. I'll talk to Tracy about reimbursement."

She practically skipped down the hallway toward Tracy's office. Tracy, a fifty-ish African American woman, who had worked at the ME's office in some capacity since she was 18 ran a tight ship, and Carly regretted that she hadn't asked Tracy's permission to start with, since she controlled all supplies, expenditures, transfers of funds, and schedules. Once Ellen knew what Carly could do, Tracy learned as well, mainly because the office manager could tell that Ellen was keeping a secret from her, and there were no secrets that could be kept from Tracy.

So, steeling herself for a scolding of epic proportions, since Carly was certain that Aliya had shared the newspaper article with Tracy, Carly walked tentatively into the corner of Tracy's office and said, "Hi, Tracy, how was your weekend?"

Tracy spun around 180 degrees, crossed her arms and looked down over her reading glasses at Carly, "Not as good as yours was, sugar. You better not have done what they say you did." Tracy jutted out her chin, "If you did, your man and me gonna have some words."

Tracy reminded Carly of her grandmother with her ability to make her feel so small so quickly with so few words. She imagined that Tracy would even reduce her Viking to pocket size if they "had words."

"No, Tracy, that was all second hand from someone who was at the opening. It was just all for show—a little drama."

"So you didn't get naked for everyone to see?" The disapproval continued to radiate from Tracy.

"No, no!" After all, Carly was wearing sheer harem pants much of the time.

"And your man didn't let some strange vampire bite you on your neck?"

"No." Carly lifted up her wrist and turned her neck from side to side. "It was my wrist, and he didn't even leave a scratch. And he wasn't a stranger. I already knew him, he's just..."

"King?" Tracy said quickly and decisively.

"What?"

"Don't try to keep things from Tracy now. I have friends, and I know there's a new vampire king in Louisiana," Tracy's arms finally fell to her sides, and she smiled. "And I'm sure he's a damn sight better than that little red-headed tramp who used to run things."

Carly was about to agree vehemently that Godric was a world better than Sophie-Ann, but then she realized she should show some discretion. "How do you know so much about vampires all of a sudden, Tracy?"

"I have my ways. You know I know everything about everybody." Tracy started to laugh heartily. "What you need, sugar?"

Grateful for the change of subject, Carly asked, "Can I make some color prints on the large format printer and then reimburse the office?"

"Sure. I'll put the money in the supply fund." Tracy shared a conspiratorial tone and said, "I have to pay through the nose for those darn little sugars and stirrers if I have to buy 'em through the state, but I can get 'em cheap at Sam's if I've got cash. And then I can just put the supply fund money in the office equipment budget. Easy-peasy, sweetheart."

"Thank you." Carly turned to leave Tracy's office, but Tracy cleared her throat. "Sorry?"

"Girl, you can't just haul yourself in here without telling me what you're doing with the printer." Tracy smiled. "You got some good pictures of that dreamboat of yours you're gonna put up on your wall?"

Carly laughed and probably blushed, mainly because she remembered the occasion when Tracy saw Eric, one day when he'd waited outside the medical examiner's for her. Tracy'd also been there late since she was meeting her husband for dinner downtown for their anniversary. When the two women left the building together, Tracy enthused, "Carly, what a wonderful anniversary present you got for me! Too bad my husband won't like it."

By the time Carly got over to Eric, she was laughing so hard she struggled to breathe. "No, Tracy. I'm doing some volunteering at a nursing home—you know the school where the community fair was this weekend?"

"Oh, my church choir did a performance in the morning there!" Tracy smiled beatifically and said, "My husband sounded so good. He's got a deep bass voice and I thought he was going to shake the walls down."

"Sorry I missed it."

"You're always welcome if you want to go, you know that."

"I'll remember that." Carly smiled again, appreciating Tracy's restraint in proselytizing. "But I wanted to take some of the in process photos of my portraits and busts and take them with me to show the class—I'm doing a little class on portrait painting—how they come together. I wanted them big, in case people had trouble with their eye-sight."

"Well, if you have any portraits of that man, you'll bring back some of those old girls from the brink of death." Tracy chuckled, "And probably more old boys than would like to admit it."

"You're probably right." Carly smiled. "I'll make sure to bring you a picture of the one I did for his club."

"You better." Tracy chuckled and waved Carly off to her lunch.

As expected, the package containing remains arrived from the Greenville, Mississippi, sheriff's department while Carly was on her lunch hour. The evidence box contained no small bones, only the skull, a scapula, and a portion of the pelvis.

Carly immediately surmised that the body belonged to a young woman and that the bones were very old, because of the degree of surface erosion and staining. After laying the bones out on an evidence tray, Carly started to document the bones, photographing them from four angles, and then she examined the surface for trauma. All the bones were extensively fractured, and they hadn't been properly cleaned, so Carly couldn't tell if the injuries were sustained before or after death. To make matters worse, the sheriff hadn't sent any photos of the site where they'd been discovered, because they hadn't been considered part of an "active crime." The bones had sat unattended in a hunter's truck from their discovery until after the hunter's heirs had turned them in to the sheriff's office. In other words, the discovery, excavation, and preliminary investigation had been entirely botched from start to finish.

Knowing that she would, of course, be able to identify the remains, Carly wondered if there would be any plausible way to present the identification. Given the age of the bones, they likely belonged to someone who hadn't been reported missing. For all Carly knew, they might be "archaeological" in nature rather than evidence of a criminal act at all. Since no one seemed particularly interested in aggressive pursuit of the case, Carly went back to finishing Bertrand's portrait and formulating a strategy to identify him.

By the end of the workday, Carly had written up a preliminary report for Ellen that suggested that Bertrand most likely died in the mid 1980s, that his remains showed evidence of war-time wounds, and that she planned to seek information from the Veteran's Administration and the Department of Defense in an effort to identify the remains.

Carly printed out the report and went to Ellen's office to drop off the report. When Carly got to the door, she paused, because Ellen sat behind her desk with her head in her hands as Dr. Kamal took a red pen to an office document.

"Ellen, I have my preliminary report about the John Doe we were talking about this morning." Carly raised the report in her hand and gestured with it. "Where do you want it?"

Ellen raised her head and smiled weakly, "Terrific. I'll probably have a chance to get to it later this week. Do you want to put in the low-priority in box?"

Since Ellen had to juggle a number of different kinds of records and correspondence, she maintained her "high-priority" and "low-priority" boxes, but she always made it through each box by the end of the week.

"Why is it low-priority?" Dr. Kamal challenged, which seemed to be the tone he used in most of his interactions with Ellen and Carly throughout the day.

After a deep sigh, Ellen said, "This is the case we were discussing this morning, Kumar, do you remember? The undetermined death from Baton Rouge."

"I understand, but why the low-priority?" Dr. Kamal ostentatiously brought out a leather-covered note pad from his jacket pocket.

Carly decided to take the weight of the engagement from Ellen. "The remains sat in an unattended empty lot for twenty years, there's no evidence of foul play on the remains, and no active missing persons cases from that period that match the forensic markers for age, race, or sex from Baton Rouge or the surrounding parish. Clear?"

Dr. Kamal scowled. "I suppose."

Ellen said, "Our major distinction, to be honest, is whether or not there's flesh. Fleshy, or as Carly likes to say, the remains with the squishy bits, get highest priority. Children get higher priority than adults. Cases that match missing persons or that show clear evidence of homicide get higher priority."

"And do you have a written policy? I'd like to see it." Dr. Kamal sketched out a little note.

By that point, Carly had enough. She wanted to see if Phyllis had extra freezer space so she could store some of the surplus food she'd made, so she wanted to get home with lots of time to spare before sundown. "Dr. Kamal, don't take this the wrong way, but do you actually want to do any pathology? I'm sure that there must have been something or somebody to dissect down in the cooler. You've been in Ellen's office all day."

With great fanfare, Dr. Kamal shut his notebook and returned it to his breast pocket. "I wanted a full procedural orientation before moving to the dissection room." Turning to face Ellen, "And I'm presuming that I'll have an orientation there as well."

"If my legs will move, since they've been in the chair all day, then we'll see. Right now, I think that they may have died." Ellen stood up with great difficulty and said, "I think that we're done for today. Welcome to Shreveport, Dr. Kamal."

"Can we continue to talk over dinner, doctor?" Kamal asked.

"No. We cannot."

"Oh." Kamal looked back at Carly and then to Ellen. "So you want me to go?"

"Yes," Ellen nodded. "I want you to go now, get settled, enjoy your first evening in Shreveport, and we will see you tomorrow."

Kamal stood up and then said. "Well, ladies, may you have a lovely evening as well."

"Doctors," Carly corrected. "Dr. Kamal, we're both doctors, as are you. You should say, doctors, have a lovely evening."

"Oh." Kamal smiled weakly and replied, "Have a lovely evening, doctors."

Once Dr. Kamal was out of earshot, Carly asked Ellen, "Are you okay?"

"No. It took all the willpower I had not to think of all the effective ways a coroner could cover up a murder and dispose of a body."

"That bad?" Carly winced.

"Worse."

"Do you think it's cultural?" Carly had so many fears of her own about how Dr. Kamal might react because of his heritage to her relationship to vampires, she'd been preoccupied all day with his background.

"Not at all." Ellen frowned and added, "He's just a pompous ass. I've got to talk to his placement officer tonight and get him away from here before I get the death penalty. There were two candidates they wanted to place, and I chose him because his credentials were superior. But you won't be seeing him again. I've got to do this call, Carly."

"Good luck." Carly waved and closed Ellen's office door behind her.

When Carly returned to her workspace, she found Dr. Kamal rummaging through her papers and her art supplies.

"What are you doing in here?" Carly tried to modulate her voice as best as she could, but she was livid that anyone would dare to come into her office uninvited and unwanted.

"Assessing the quality of your work." Dr. Kamal turned to look at her directly, although he didn't meet her eye. His gaze alighted on her chest, and Carly seethed.

"Get the hell out of my office right now, do you understand?" Even if Ellen wasn't able to get rid of him, Carly was not going to play nice with this man who presumed that he any expertise whatsoever through which he might assess her work.

"You're an exceptionally rude woman, Carly." Kamal and Carly rotated positions. He moved back toward the door while she rotated toward her desk, where she immediately began to put things back to rights.

"Dr. Kamal, you may address me as Dr. Michael, and you may also get the hell out of my office."

"No," Kamal replied quietly as he shut the door and locked it. "We're going to get to know each other. You're clearly the strongest hen in the house. If I can get you pacified, the others will fall in line."

Dr. Kamal stood with his back to the door, and Carly stared at him with a mixture of anger and astonishment. He didn't move toward her whatsoever, or gesture in a threatening way.

"Did you just call me a chicken?" Carly started laughing and leaned back onto her work stool. Her laughter was loud with derision, anger, and disgust. "Have you ever had an interaction with other human beings?"

"You told me you were an anthropologist, Carly. I'm just exercising my dominance as your superior." Kamal took off his lab-coat and hung it on the back of the door.

Thinking of the last few weeks of her life and thinking of the new abilities that had manifested, Carly imagined how best to undermine this young psychopath's sense of self, his unbridled ego, but struggled to formulate a strategy. Without hesitating, Carly reached for her phone to page Ellen's office. When she turned her head and reached for the telephone, Kamal grabbed the back of her neck and, wrenching it toward him, said, "You will look at me when I talk to you."

Carly's neck jerked painfully, but she made no sound. She simply met his gaze and looked deep inside of him. Within his mind, she encountered a perfectly conventional (by any cultural standards) upbringing, with a loving family, doting grandparents, but she also, very quickly found how excited he was to abuse Carly and to intimidate Ellen. His behavior today, Carly saw clearly, was merely the faintest echo of the horrific things he'd done to women over the years ever since early adolescence. Worst of all, he had no idea that he was truly out of his depth at this point, that he was not a fox in a hen-house but a worm in the chicken yard that was about to be consumed and shat out for what he was.

With a deep breath, Carly filled the space between them with an energy that threatened to rip away everything that Kamal once had been and replace it with whatever Carly chose. By the time, she released her own breath, Kamal's mind was hers to bend, reshape, and remake, and it cowered in fear within him.

"Kumar Kamal, you will unhand me and sit on the floor like the spoiled, self-satisfied, psychopathic little child you are." Carly spoke slowly and each word struck him back as if she were a heavyweight boxer.

"Okay..."

"Kumar, when I am done with you, you will walk out into the lobby and make a list of every woman you have wronged, raped, underestimated, humiliated, or discouraged, and you will spend the rest of your life making amends to them."

"Okay..."

Carly smiled, and Kumar's hopes lifted briefly, only to fall again. She spoke deliberately to him, weighting her voice down with scorn. "You are the biggest pile of trash masquerading as a human being I have ever encountered. You will tell me, now, why you chose to attack me."

"You needed to defer to me. I am the powerful one..." Carly's hold over Kumar buckled as his ego rose back up to the surface. "I am the powerful one..."

Kumar lunged at Carly and pushed her sharply against the door into the hallway, shook off her glamour, and tore at her blouse. When his hand closed around her throat, she struck him forcefully on the chin propelling his head back. She kicked him in the groin, and then shot out the door screaming, "Tracy, Ellen, help!"

The two women and Aliya emerged into the main hall and scurried toward Carly, who was followed by a bleeding and staggering Kumar. He screamed, "You fucking bitches! I'll show you who you should respect." He tackled Carly to the floor where he pinned her. Dizzy from the impact and from the weight of Kumar on her chest and pelvis, Carly struggled to get her hands free to defend herself. She heard the other women in the office yelling, for Bob, the technician, and into the phone to summon the police.

Kumar's rage and confusion drove him to lengths that Carly knew were unprecedented, even for someone who had been abusive to women his entire life. Between her own discomfort and his horrific thoughts that were full of sexual violence and murderous rage, Carly couldn't focus on any thoughts or sounds in the rest of the building. When a loud crack rang out above her and Kumar slumped on top of her, his blood spilling all over her throat and chest, Carly had no idea how it had happened.

Bob pulled her out from under the unconscious and bleeding Kumar and sat her up against the wall. "My god, Carly, you okay?"

"Yeah...Bob...what happened?" Carly looked up at the plump autopsy tech, who was still wearing a smock from a procedure. "What? How did he fall?"

When Carly's eyes refocused on Kumar, she saw Ellen as she knelt over his limp body and checked for a pulse. "He's alive, Aliya, make sure that we get the mobile ICU over here along with paramedics who can check Carly out. Bob, can you get something so I can stabilize his neck?"

"No problem, Ellen." Bob scurried down the stairs back to the autopsy suite.

As Carly's eyes moved away from Ellen and lifted to take in the rest of the scene, her gaze alighted on Tracy, who was spinning a bloodied baseball bat in her hand.

"Tracy, where did that come from?"

"My son's first home run, sweetie." Tracy looked up at her and winked. "I've always kept it next to my desk, since so much of the time I'm here by myself."

Aliya jumped back into the hallway. "They're on their way, doctor."

"I knew," Tracy volunteered, "that man was an ass, but I didn't take him for a monster."

"What happened, Carly?" Ellen came to stoop next to her.

"He just showed up in my office." Carly closed her eyes and tried to remember exactly what happened before her attempt to glamour Kumar. "He said he wanted to assess my work, and that if he could subdue me, the rest of you would fall in line."

"Lord, have mercy," Tracy begged.

"And then?" Ellen followed up.

"He grabbed me," Carly paused and omitted her attempt to control him. "And then we struggled. I kicked him, and then came out for help."

"I can't believe he did that. I was on the phone with his placement officer. They'd just received a complaint about him and were going to cancel his residency. They'd notified him at lunch time."

"So he had no hope of staying?" Carly realized that when Kumar came into her office and said they were "going to get to know each other," he'd already formulated a plan to hurt her, but she hadn't recognized it. "I was trying to page you when he grabbed me." Carly closed her eyes and brought her knees up toward her. "I should have moved faster."

Just as Ellen was preparing to speak, the paramedics called into the office suite, "Hello, we got a call."

"Here," Ellen summoned, "we have a head trauma and a case of shock that we need you to check out."

The mobile ICU paramedics rushed to Kumar just as Bob crested the top of the stairs with a makeshift brace. "I guess you don't need this now, huh?" Bob asked.

"We got it buddy." The lead paramedic, a short, scrappy man of about thirty-five slipped a neck brace around Kumar as his colleague assessed his vital signs. "Can you move, ma'am," he addressed Carly.

"Yeah, I think so." Carly, with Ellen's support, stood and slid down the hallway wall toward her office. Once Carly was seated back on her stool, she called out to the EMT who had arrived shortly after the paramedics. "I'm back here."

"Ma'am, my name's Kevin, can I check your vitals?" A tall, slender young man, about twenty-two, gently took Carly's hand and checked her pulse. Carly closed her eyes and searched Kevin's mind. She knew after a moment that Kevin lived with his grandmother, and that the radio said that Carly was the victim of an attempted sexual assault.

"I don't know if he was going to rape me." Carly responded to Kevin's unspoken assumption. "He was strange though...he said he wanted to be dominant...that we were all a bunch of hens."

"Sounds like a real SOB to me, ma'am, no matter what he was gonna do." Kevin thought immediately of what Detective Andrews had told him about Carly when they'd been working out. _I guess she really can read minds. Wow. Must be hard._

"Yeah...it is hard." Carly smiled at him and added, "But I guess I didn't do it enough today, huh?"

"Can't imagine how you deal with it, ma'am. Really can't." Kevin put the blood-pressure cuff around her arm and inflated it. "Do you have any pain?"

Carly rotated her neck and her shoulders and then stretched out her legs. "I don't think so."

"Your blood pressure's a little high, but not too much considering." After checking her eyes and her head, Kevin said, "I don't think you have a concussion. Did you hit your head?"

"No. I don't think so." As Carly thought about how she and Kumar had wrestled on the ground, she realized that the man had done nothing too terrible to her, but that she was still startled by the rage in his mind. "I think it just shocked me."

Carly heard the sound of the gurney's legs as they locked into place and began rolling toward the exit ramp. As she heard the wheels rattling away, Carly wished desperately for Eric, for the comfort of his arms, for the justification of his rage. Closing her eyes, Carly imagined him, sleeping peacefully in her wine cellar, awaiting her return to awaken and comfort her. As she imagined the curve of his hip and the breadth of his shoulders, the spread of his hair across the pillow, and sighed, longing for him, her imagined Eric sat bolt upright and called out her name.

"What was that?" Ellen asked from the hallway. "Did you hear that?"

"Sounded like someone yelling Carly from down in the morgue," Tracy suggested.

Carly stirred at Tracy's description of the sound and pushed away the EMT. "What?"

"Carly," Ellen said steadily, "I think I heard someone yell, Carly, from downstairs." Ellen turned to Bob, "Was there anybody else down in the autopsy suite or the morgue with you?"

"No," Bob responded. "I was by myself."

"Carly!"

Once she focused on the sound, she knew instantly that it was Eric calling her. Carly bolted past the EMT and lunged down the stairs, skipping over the last two stairs as she ran. When she reached the doors of the autopsy suite, she stopped short before opening the doors. There, on top of a gurney, Eric sat naked and disoriented.

When he saw her, he rushed toward her. "Are you all right?"

Carly collapsed into his arms and started to cry and said, "I'm so happy you're here!"

As Carly sank to the floor just outside the doors to the autopsy suite, Ellen descended the stairs, turned the corner and caught a glimpse of Eric. She called back up to Bob, "Do you have a spare set of scrubs you can throw me, Bob?"

"Yeah, they're in the autopsy suite closet, Ellen," came Bob's reply from the top of the steps. "Do you need me down there with you two?"

"No," Ellen said flatly. "We're fine. I'm just going to borrow your scrubs." When Ellen redirected her attention to Eric, she closed her eyes, and spoke, "I don't know how you got here, but you've got to put on some clothes, okay?"

"Yes, please," Eric replied. "I take it they're in the closet?"

"Yes, can you get them. I don't want to crawl over you."

Since Ellen's eyes were closed, she missed Eric's faint smile. "Of course, not, doctor." Eric smoothed Carly's hair back from her face and whispered, "Let me put on some pants, Carly, and then we can talk, okay?"

"Okay."

As Eric moved away from her, Ellen swooped toward Carly. Ellen took Carly up into her arms and asked quietly, "How did he get here, Carly?"

"I..." Carly began to speak.

"I apologize, Dr. Watson-Linkmann, but there are tunnels that I built through Shreveport years ago. I used one of them when I felt Carly need me." Eric lied smoothly without betraying any suggestion of duplicity. "I fear that I failed to dress in my rush to get to her."

After putting on the oversized, although still too short scrubs, Eric picked up Carly and walked with her into the autopsy room. Kicking a chair out from behind a table, he sat down, cradling Carly in his arms. "What happened, lover?"

"He..." Carly sputtered. "The new doctor...he was a real dick...he..." Carly inhaled sharply and began to cry harder. "He attacked..."

"What?" Eric's body tensed, tightening his grip on her. "Are you hurt?"

Carly didn't answer, so Eric turned his attention to Ellen. "I don't think she's hurt. Perhaps a couple of bruises, although I only saw the aftermath."

With determination and rage in equal measure in his voice, Eric asked, "Where is he?"

"On the way to the hospital." Ellen shook his head. "Tracy cracked his skull with a baseball bat."

"Tracy is my new favorite person." Eric looked down at Carly, who the night before had been dangerously euphoric, but this afternoon seemed to be destroyed, and closed his eyes, trying to regroup. "I haven't introduced myself, doctor. I'm Eric Northman."

"I figured." Looking at the clock, Ellen said, "I'm sorry, but you're either going to have to go back the way you came or hang out here for another hour and a half or so. It's only five now."

"We'll wait. I think Carly could use a little rest before we go anywhere." Conscious that he had to keep up the lie, Eric added, "And the tunnels are not easy to navigate."

"Okay." Ellen looked over her shoulder and saw the rest of the staff, and Kevin, the EMT, peering in through the window. "Do you think you can take care of her? Can I send the EMT away?"

"Yes," Eric nodded, "please do. I'll hold onto her."

"I'll go back to my office. The police may want to speak with her to get her report. Can I send them down here?"

"Perhaps you can let them know what kind of state she's in?"

Ellen agreed, "You're right. I'll see if they can talk to her when you're ready to take her home."

"Thank you."

Within Eric's arms, Carly finally began to calm, to breathe evenly without struggling against tears. After ten minutes, she looked up and said, "Thank you for coming."

Eric chuckled. "Thank you, Carly, I believe, for bringing me."

Carly pushed against his chest and sat up. "You think I brought you?"

"There's no other way to explain it."

"But the tunnels..."

"Are a convenient fiction." Eric kissed her forehead lightly and said, "I have no idea how I got here. I startled awake, and I was on that gurney over there, feeling liked I'd just been ripped out of my bed by a monstrous, cold hand."

"Really?"

"I think you need to talk again with Arianna tonight, my darling." Eric's expression, one of tremendous concern, also bore traces of the disapproval a teacher would bear toward a naughty student. "Within two days, you've done things that were unprecedented and left you horribly shaken." Kissing her again, he said, "You need guidance I can't offer."

Carly leaned back against his chest. "We'll be in New York soon. Maybe she can explain."

"Maybe we should leave for New York sooner."

"Maybe..."

Carly closed her eyes and wondered if she now had to worry about what she wished for for fear she might get it.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Only three sounds were distinctly audible in the autopsy suite as Carly and Eric sat waiting for the police to arrive: the clock's ticking, Carly's breathing, and the hum of the air conditioning unit. After half an hour, Eric answered a faint knock at the door. "Yes, please."

Detective Andrews, who had become Eric's chief collaborator in the effort to contain V trafficking and violence against and by vampires in the greater Shreveport area, poked his head through the door. "You ready to talk, Carly?"

Carly nodded, dried her eyes, and climbed down from Eric's lap. "Yeah, I think so. Good to see you, you lousy secret-keeper."

The detective blushed. "Kevin mentioned it to me. Sorry, Carly. He's really one of the best people. Your secret's safe."

"Andrews," Eric spoke authoritatively, "we assumed her secret was safe with you. Have you told anyone else?"

"No."

"Keep it that way." Eric stood up next to Carly and took her hand again. "As it is, I'm considering glamouring the both of you to keep her safe." Kissing Carly's hand, "If I could order Carly to keep her own secret to herself, I would."

Carly glared at Eric briefly, but then a look of resignation passed over her face. "You're right, Eric. I'm sorry."

"I just want you to be safe, Carly."

The detective agreed. "We all do, Carly. Can you tell me what happened?"

Carly led Eric over to a chair, where she sat down, still holding his hand. "Have you talked to Ellen?"

"She told me he'd been a bastard all day."

"Yeah. So I kind of told him off when Ellen sent him away," Carly reported. "She and I talked for a few minutes about him, and when I went back to my office, he was there, rummaging around. I told him to get out, and then he grabbed me. We struggled, and I got out into the hallway. I yelled for help, but he tackled me. And then I heard a crack." A wave of nausea overcame Carly. "Tracy cracked his skull with a baseball bat."

"Did he say anything before he grabbed you?"

"Yeah." Carly shivered. "He said he had to exert his dominance, and I was the biggest hen in the house, or something stupid like that. That if he subdued me, the rest would fall in line." Looking up at Eric, Carly suddenly remembered an important detail. "He presumed he would be eating dinner with Ellen. Do you think Ellen could have been his first target?"

Andrews jotted down a few notes, and then said, "Maybe. She would be the head hen, wouldn't she?"

"She's the boss," Carly shrugged before closing her eyes, still overwhelmed by the day's events.

"Let's not kid," Andrews chuckled. "Tracy's the boss. Everybody' knows that."

"It would appear," Eric suggested, "that Dr. Kamal now knows that better than anyone." Eric crossed his arms. "Carly has tired, Andrews. Do you need any more information from her?"

"No," Andrews flipped his notebook closed. "That should be it."

"I would appreciate updates on Kamal's condition, Andrews." Eric's eyes burned.

Carly knew, immediately, his intent. "Eric, you can't..."

"I wouldn't blame him, one bit, Carly." Andrews and Eric clearly shared their vengeful impulses. "The medics thought he might not make it, though. So you're probably out of luck." Andrews straightened his back and winked at Eric. "Of course, I wouldn't have any idea why you'd want to know what sort of shape he's in."

"Of course, detective." Eric smiled and nodded. "Until next time."

"Yeah, see you soon. Maybe I'll stop by that club of yours for a drink."

"On the house, Andrews. Pam will recognize you."

Andrews looked at Carly, who was now pacing with her arms locked across her chest. "Carly, you didn't do anything wrong, you know that?"

"Yeah. Except I didn't see him coming." Carly didn't add that she had tried and failed to control Kamal. "But thanks. I appreciate it."

Andrews tapped the door on his way out. "Okay, well, you two are free to get out of here whenever you can."

Once the detective was out of earshot, Eric kept Carly talking, since her previous catatonia seemed to be gone. "What else is bothering you, Carly? There's something you aren't telling me."

"I tried to glamour him—to get him to make amends for everything he'd done. But then, he seemed to break out of it." Carly rubbed her scalp and then brought her palms over her eyes. "Since I learned to do it, I haven't had problems like that."

Eric wrinkled his brow, visibly searching his memory. After a few moments, he responded. "You've only glamoured one human, yes?"

"I think so. Mostly vampires," Carly stomped her foot, petulant. "So I can glamour the unglamourable, but humans can kick my ass if they want?"

"Carly," Eric took on a professorial tone, "you are still learning to control these new abilities. You need to seek advice from Arianna. We actually have little idea about what you should expect to be able to do."

Carly took a deep breath, because Eric's tone, so familiar to her from years in school, so familiarly paternalistic, scraped against the grain of her character. "I know. You're right." Stiffening, Carly looked around the autopsy room. Suddenly, the brightness, the clinical arrangement, startled her. "Why the hell did you wind up here?"

"I don't know, Carly, but I'm grateful."

"Why?"

Eric closed the gap that had developed between them and stroked her cheek. "If I'd burst into flames, I doubt I would have been much comfort to you."

"Daylight." Carly embraced Eric and rubbed her face against his collarbone. "My lord, Eric, I could have killed you. If I really brought you here, I could have exposed you to daylight?"

"But you didn't, Carly." Kissing her forehead, before pulling her close to her again, Eric added, "Some part of you—or of your magic—protected me."

He was right, Carly knew. Nevertheless, the disquiet that afflicted her so frequently over the last six weeks threatened to overcome her, threatened to strip away the control and comfort that she was starting to gain the longer she was in Shreveport with Eric.

Squeezing her, Eric said, "The sun is down now, darling. We can leave now."

"Okay."

Eric, taking Carly by the hand, drew her toward the door and up the stairs to the main floor, where the two of them found Ellen and Tracy waiting. Nodding and smiling, Eric said, "Tracy, well done. I will remember to stay in your good graces."

"Well, you can buy me a new bat. Andrews took mine. Knowing Shreveport PD, lord knows when I'll get it back."

Rather than speaking, Carly skipped toward Tracy and hugged her close. "You saved me, Tracy. Thank you."

With their close embrace, Carly clearly heard Tracy's thoughts. _Sweet child. What does she think I woulda done? Watched him kill her. Poor child—like no one ever treated her right. She's one of my girls now. I always take care of my own. _"It's nothing, child. He deserved it and worse."

"I agree," Eric said. "Carly, where are your things? I'll collect them."

Carly released Tracy from her grip and pointed toward her office. "My purse is in there. I think that's all I need."

Ellen took the three steps toward Tracy and Carly, and took the younger woman's hand. "Do you need anything, Carly?"

"I don't know, Ellen." Carly felt a wave of concern and pity emanating from Ellen, along with sharp spikes of rage. _How could I be fooled? I should have kicked his pompous ass out this morning. God knows what he would have done to her._ Carly decided to ask the question that had troubled her earlier. "Do you think, when he asked to eat with you, that he planned to hurt you?"

Ellen snapped her head back, startled, and then looked toward the floor. "I hadn't thought of that, Carly. Probably."

"Then I'm glad he went after me, instead."

Eric returned to Carly's side. "Why?"

Carly looked up at her vampire, "Because Ellen's getting really bad arthritis. You could barely walk when you stood up this afternoon. You probably couldn't have gotten away from him."

"Is this facility that insecure," Eric asked. "I can make arrangements for a security guard."

"No, Eric." Ellen smiled in gratitude. "That's kind of you, but we're a locked facility. It's not like people can just walk in here. I just need to make better choices in residents. He was my fault."

"Perhaps Tracy," Eric nodded toward her, "should participate in the decisions about residents." Eric and Tracy locked eyes with one another until he finally added, "I would assume her judgments of others are as good as her cousin Octavia's."

Appraising Eric sternly, Tracy straightened her spine and then smiled at Carly. "I told you this morning, Carly, that Eric and I had some mutual acquaintances. Thank you, vampire, but I'm afraid I lack my cousin's skills."

"I believe you underestimate yourself, or misrepresent yourself, ma'am." After running his hand down Carly's arm, Eric took her hand again. "Perhaps we should discuss this on another occasion. I'd like to get Carly home and get back into my clothes. I'll have these returned tomorrow morning."

After saying their goodbyes, Carly and Eric went out to her car. Carly wished that the two of them could fly—actually flee—back to her home or, even better, Eric's home. She longed for the layers of security, to be underground. Perhaps once they were back, she thought, she would ask to spend the night at his house. More and more, she wondered, whether Eric would mind if she moved in with him.

"Lover," Eric spoke quietly. "Your silence is upsetting."

"I'm sorry, Eric." Carly looked over at him as he drove aggressively back to her place.

"Don't apologize." Eric stroked her thigh gently, "I'm simply expressing concern. Poorly, it would appear."

"No, I'm just angry with myself." Carly crossed her arms and looked out the car window. "You would have thought that I would see him coming. But I never heard anything from him all day. I don't really even think that I tried."

"It's something to reflect on, Carly, but not something you should be angry about. I've committed enough acts of violence to know that victims usually can do little to protect themselves."

Carly let that comment settle in for a few moments before she responded to it. "Eric," Carly doubted she should ask the question, "did you ever..." She couldn't.

"Ever what, Carly?" Eric's voice deepened, as if it became someone else's. "I have done many things, Carly. I am a vampire—a predator. And I have rarely taken my meals' feelings into account, especially when I had few options."

"I know." Letting the silence linger a moment, Carly wondered whether she could really ask the question she wanted.

"Do you wish to know if I abused women? Whether I've raped?"

"No," Carly wasn't going to lie. "I don't wish to know. But I'm asking."

"Never for that purpose alone, although I am certain that I have done things in the last thousand years that I wouldn't do today." Eric tapped the steering wheel before speaking longer. "If I recall, you thought I was going to victimize you."

"Yes, I did. I guess glamouring is..."

"Arrogance?"

"Yes, but..."

"A man like Kamal, more than anything else, is arrogant, willful. He's believes he's a prince who simply hasn't been recognized properly," Eric philosophized as they pulled into the driveway. "Yet he has few of the charms that would bring a woman to him through their own free will."

"Like you?"

Eric rotated toward Carly, expanding across the car, draping his arm over her seat. "Yes, like me. But, Carly, I will never harm you. You know that?"

"Yes, I do." Carly looked into Eric's eyes, whose pupils reflected black in the evening light. "But will you harm other women while I'm with you?"

"Like Kamal? Never. What he did is about will, and exerting it, not about appetite." Eric brushed her cheek lightly. "My will is absolute, and I have complete certainty in it. And my appetite is sated in you, and will be, because you're mine."

"Thank you, Eric." Carly wrapped her arms around Eric's neck and kissed him behind his ear. She felt him stiffen, unexpectedly. "What?"

"Someone is in your house, Carly." Eric listened, sitting so still that Carly felt her own breath reflected from his cheek. "Can you tell who it is?"

Expanding her mind through the walls and beyond the windows, Carly sought the person who sat inside relaxed on her sofa waiting for her to return from work.

_Carly, please, you really can't tell who's here? I came as soon as I felt you move your vampire. We really, really need to talk._

"It's Arianna," Carly reported. "She's come to talk."

"Gracious of her." Eric climbed out of the car and escorted Carly to the door. "Do you want me here?"

"Please? At least for a little while?" Carly desperately wanted his company, the comfort of his touch as she came to terms with what happened.

_He's not welcome, Carly. These are secrets only you may know. Send him away._

Carly grasped Eric's arm as he unlocked the door. "I guess not, Eric. Arianna wants me to send you away."

Unlocking the door, Eric called out, "Arianna, I'm leaving. But know Carly will keep nothing from me."

Arianna's laugh pierced the air and made Carly shiver. "Vampire, she will only tell you what you are allowed to know. Now leave."

Eric rushed Arianna at full speed, but couldn't reach her, because he began floating in midair a yard before he reached the valkyrie.

"Do you relent, vampire?" Arianna stood up, reached out, and spun Eric like a wheel. "You're quite amusing right now, Eric. Perhaps Carly and I should leave you hanging here and go in the cellar."

"Arianna," Carly begged, "please let him down."

Eric tried to speak, but no sound emanated from him.

With another spin, Arianna said, "I'm impatient, Carly. I've traveled a great distance, and I'm anxious to return home. Can we go downstairs?"

"You won't let him down?"

"Not now. I will release him when we're finished." Arianna turned and walked imperiously toward the cellar door. "Carly, I'm here to help you, but my time is short. If I wait too long, I'll need to return by standard conveyance, and I don't have much with me. I loathe the idea of being stranded in Louisiana."

Carly kept shivering as she followed Arianna to the door and down the stairs. "What the hell is wrong with you, Arianna? You've never been like this to me. You've always been cheerful and kind."

Arianna reached the bottom of the stairs and said, "Enough, Carly. I have little time, and I refuse to answer silly questions. I am many things at many times. My purpose here tonight is to guide you before you destroy yourself and that creature you love."

Carly sank down onto the bed and drew her legs up to her chin. "Fine. What do you need to tell me?"

"First," Arianna stood like a drill sergeant, "Eric's blood has changed you and awakened the valkyrie in you. As of now, there is little to no difference between us."

The silence lingered for a moment between them until Carly asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means, Carly, that you now will hunger after death, but you must not gorge yourself as you did yesterday until you learn how to feed." Arianna crossed her arms. "You were quite irresponsible and could have harmed yourself and your vampire."

"Irresponsible?" Rage surged through Carly. "Are you serious?"

"Entirely, Carly. You were incredibly irresponsible to feed for so long," Arianna continued to scold her.

"And how was I even supposed to know how to feed, or if I was feeding? And why, in hell, does this have to be a big secret from Eric?"

"Because, Carly, you might inadvertently feed on him." Arianna's rigidity softened. "My dear, I regret how stern I've been, but if you were to feed on him, you could..." She paused.

"Could what?"

Arianna sighed deeply. "We don't actually know. If you were to feed from him, take away all the death that lingers about him, you could lose your corporeal form and your connection to the physical world. You could become lost in time, disembodied."

Carly felt, in some ways, as if this was old news, a minor concern. "What would it do to him?"

"He might cease to exist, he might not. It's hard to tell."

Standing and moving violently, Carly was frantic, "That's not good enough. What do you mean?"

"None of us has spent much time around vampires until the ancestors gave you their blessing. We don't even know, for certain, whether they're affected. We're simply presuming such creatures would be surrounded by the energies of death."

"So you don't even fucking know what you're talking about, do you!" Carly screamed at her aunt. "You're just talking through your ass, making guesses. Why are you doing this?"

A chorus of voices, in a host of languages, pierced Carly's mind, resonating through her. _You are now one of us, Carly. You now have responsibilities—you care for the world. You may not deny us,. You may not deny who and what you are. The vampire calls you valkyrie, but you have many names—you summon and guide the dead to rest, lest they trouble the world that remains. You consume and transform what they were into what may be. Their memories are your memories, who they were, you are. You are part of the waters now, Carly, and you may be called to stir the cauldron. You may continue to love the vampire and protect him, but you are now eternal, more eternal than he shall ever be._

Carly dropped to the floor gasping, and Eric knelt by her side, somehow released from Arianna's thrall when she became herself again.

"What did you do to her, valkyrie?" Eric demanded.

"I gave her our message and told her the secrets," Arianna replied.

Carly's rage was uncontainable, and she launched herself at her aunt. "You told me nothing, no matter how many of you there were! You answered no questions! How can you say you told me secrets? You told me nothing more than my dreams did. Of course I have people's memories. Tell me something new? I'm eternal? Yeah, so? That's not new, either. They told me not to let Eric try to turn me. And I know if I try to change history, I'll get sent to the principal's office to stir the damn cauldron till the end of time. So what the hell secrets did you tell me?"

"Feel for them, Carly," Arianna responded with the calm, playful voice that Carly had first heard on the phone weeks before.

Breathing deeply and trying to control her anger, her loss of herself and her control over her life, Carly tried to quiet herself and listen to her inmost thoughts. _I'm eternal. I eat the dead—not their bodies, but their energies. I have their memories. What can I remember? _She closed her eyes and remembered her dream, the crowd of people that strolled before her as she sat on a porch in sunshine with Eric. She saw an old gentleman limping past and suddenly she was with him. Bombs and the rat-tat-tat of gunfire echoed through her mind and she remembered, "Army First Sergeant Monahan, we're clear of the beach-head, over." Back to the porch and Eric's smile, and she saw a child, cowering, and Eric's voice saying, "What's your name? Hilda? Hilda, tell no one what you saw. Tell them that wolves killed your mother. You saw no one nearby." And then an elderly woman came into view. "What, my baby's dead? How? How?" And screaming, screaming, and Carly was screaming...

"Carly!" Eric turned his attention back to Arianna, "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing, Eric, Carly feels the weight of the memories that fall on her." Arianna moved toward Carly and then whispered, "And transform the pain, Carly. Change it."

_No, I can't change it. It hurts too much. So much. It hurts. But I can make it smaller, I can hold it tight and make it smaller. _

Eric pleaded, "Tell me what you need, Carly, and I'll do it."

"Paints," Carly wept. "Please take me to them."

Eric swept her up in his arms and returned them upstairs to her paints. Without even opening her eyes, Carly painted over the canvas she'd begun—a still life for practice—with black oil paint and began frantically to paint, first a horrific face, manic in intensity, and then bursts of light around it.

By the time she stopped crying and moaning, the whole easel was covered in paint and she'd produced a haunting canvas filed with micro-images.

Eric whispered, "I remember that girl. Godric and I took her mother. I was young and got carried away. I killed her when I didn't mean to. Godric had me glamour the girl, and I told her that her mother had been attacked..." Eric trailed off and then began again, "like my family."

The realization slowly dawned on Carly, "So this is how I'm a danger to him, isn't it? I'll make him remember what he's done."

Arianna nodded. "Vampire, will you keep her secret?"

"Yes, of course." Eric embraced Carly. "I love her. She's mine."

"But what if it gets too painful for you, Eric?" Carly genuinely questioned whether she could endure becoming Eric's conscience after a thousand years of killing.

"We'll learn to manage. I've learned many things over a millennium." After a few moments, he added, "And Carly will be able to do this to anyone, won't she?"

"Yes," Arianna affirmed. "She's already been doing it, but I doubt she's recognized it for what it was."

Carly thought of the memories she'd accessed from Kevin, the EMT, and how easily she moved beyond what he'd thought in that moment to the narrative of his life. "But I can't read vampire minds with the same ease I can humans."

"Have you tried recently?" Arianna asked.

Eric was the first to suggest that she try. "Carly, try to read my mind."

Focusing on Eric's sympathetic cerulean eyes, Carly tuned into his mind, after a moment of buzzing, Carly was bombarded by images. Eric holding her hand, comforting her, caressing her, speaking to the Magister and to Jean-Jacques. She heard no words.

"I can't hear anything, Arianna. I just see images." Cary shook her head.

"And what do you learn from the images?" Arianna began to sound like a school teacher whose patience had finally waned after years of work.

"That he'll protect me." Looking back at Eric, she said, "Is that what you were thinking?"

"Yes. I was thinking that I'd protect you no matter the cost." Eric's tone vibrated with resolution. "You are remarkable, and I will not lose you."

"Why were you thinking of the Magister and Jean-Jacques?"

"Because they will protect you as well, their order will protect you against any who might wish to manipulate you," Eric asserted. "I was thinking of how I could explain that you deserved additional protection, perhaps as much as this barmaid in Bon Temps seems to deserve."

Arianna's volume spiked, "What do you know of the fairy?"

"Simply that she is there, that there's a war, and she seems to be the focal point for it," Eric replied cooly, but Carly wondered if there was more to what he was saying.

Carly focused her attention on Eric again and saw in the distance an old house, almost abandoned, and William Compton, the vampire who was now bound to Godric, skulking around it and through an old graveyard.

"Have you seen Sookie, Eric?" Carly asked.

"No, the Magister told me to stay away from her, but I did follow Compton on Godric's command. He has been stalking her and taking blood from an elderly relative of his. I presume he intended to take her, but we cannot become involved with the fairies." Eric smirked, "No matter how delicious they are." Eric nipped at Carly's neck playfully, and Carly laughed for the first time that day.

"Vampire, we are not mere supernatural beings, we are woven into the fabric of the universe. Carly is the first new creature among us in a thousand years. What she is cannot be harmed. Who she is," Arianna cocked her head to the side, "is still subject to change."

"What?" Carly's attention snapped back to her aunt. "What do you mean?"

"You will have to give up this identity sooner or later. You cannot remain where you are, unaging, unchanging, doing what you do." Arianna flipped her hair back. "You will clean up around Louisiana, and then I'll teach you how to move comfortably to where you're needed. You may choose, eventually, to abandon life here and join our fellows in their sphere."

"I get that," Carly felt calm, recalling what Arianna had said before about the valkyries, and the way that they snapped to and from the world of people, choosing to spend most of their time in some inter-dimensional space. Arianna and another relative lived in the human world, but most did not. "You still haven't explained how I moved Eric into the morgue. Explain that, please?"

Arianna sat languidly on the edge of the bed. "We can move through inter-dimensional space. You know that. We sense where we're needed, and we travel there. Usually, since there's so much death in New York to sustain me in little bites and nibbles, I just take a taxi. But we can also move bodies to us if we choose. You chose to move him to you."

"But why into the morgue?" Carly tried to remember what she'd thought or said before hearing his cries from the basement.

"Presumably, because he's a vampire. Otherwise, he would have burned." Arianna sighed. "You must learn, Carly, that your conscious mind, your human mind, is now only one part of what you are. You are much, much more, and your thoughts are much greater than those of a mere human."

"And what about the fire that came from us, Carly? Have you told Arianna of that?" Eric brought up the moment when Godric interrupted them.

Arianna sat straight again. "Fire?"

"Yes," Carly breathed in, taking an inventory of all the unexplained episodes she had to ask her aunt about. "There have been a couple of episodes with fire. Eric's talking about a couple of days ago. His maker interrupted us while we were...together...and this blue fire pinned him against the wall. He attacked us again, to test it, and it only seemed to work when we were in contact with one another."

"Only when we touched," Eric added.

"Peculiar," Arianna responded. "And another episode with fire, you said?"

"A couple, I think. I held a piece of paper and it burst into flames," Carly described. "And I seem to have traveled through smoke to another place."

Eric added, "And the hot wind."

"Yeah, I forgot about that. It showed up when I glamoured a few people." Carly added the last detail without thinking anything of it.

"Glamoured!" Arianna nearly screamed. "Carly, you glamoured people?"

"And vampires. It almost seems to work better on vampires." With the realization that her abilities exceeded Arianna's expectations, Carly suddenly felt stronger and more in control again.

"You can glamour vampires?" Arianna looked from Carly to Eric and then back again. "I...well...Carly..." Arianna reached out her arms, and then disappeared in a whirlwind.

Eric began laughing and took Carly up in his arms, "You've defied the eternal, my darling!" Eric began kissing her neck and twirling her around in a circle, until Carly began to reciprocate, first reluctantly, and then finally with a wantonness that surprised her. Within moments, they were on the bed, stripped of all their clothes, Carly encircled Eric in her legs, and then once he was inside her, Carly groaned and bit deeply into Eric's shoulder, lapping up his blood. Eric cried out and bit her in return. They became a complete circuit and began glowing blue.

A whirlwind manifested, but didn't disrupt them. Carly and Eric continued to draw from one another as Arianna appeared. The blue fire restrained her—pinning her to the wall. "All right, I get it. You don't like interruptions! Put me down, you too! Before you drain each other!"

Their attention finally redirected from one another, Carly and Eric refocused on Arianna.

"What are you doing back here, woman?" Eric growled at the interruption. "How dare you interrupt our union."

"I had no idea you'd be uniting so quickly!" Arianna laughed. "Although I should have asked how often you were doing this. And then I would have understood!"

Carly, finally fully in control of herself, drew the sheet up around her chest. "What are you talking about, Arianna!"

"Your mother's family is light fairy, is it not, Carly?" Arianna smiled brightly.

"Distantly—hundreds of years!"

"Your vampire's blood has activated it. The fire, the glamour, those are all from the light fairy in you. As well as your hunger for his blood." Giggling, Arianna said, "Perhaps that's why I can't distract Jean-Jacques away from your mother, child. She's just tastier."

Eric still wrestled to contain himself, even as Carly held tight to him. "Are you finished? I would like to get back to what we were doing."

"One more thing, Carly."

"What?" Carly wanted Arianna gone, but needed as much information as possible.

"You need to commune again with the ancestors—seek them out and call for new direction. They forbade you from certain places, but you need to find out if those prohibitions remain." Arianna shifted uncomfortably as Eric moved deeper into Carly. "They will explain to you how to feed, how to see it, how to sense the zones where death has poisoned the living. There are any number of such zones in Louisiana, particularly around the fairy portal in Bon Temps. None of us has been there since the fairies arrived forty years ago."

"So I might get to know Sookie after all?"

"Why would her friendship be important to you?" Arianna laughed again. "She's just another one of the bastards they distribute across the countryside."

"Go away, Arianna," Carly sighed. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Fine. Just speak to the ancestors, Carly. They seem to favor you." Arianna disappeared again in a vortex.

Carly and Eric returned to their lovemaking and continued until the sun rose, enjoying the solace they found in one another until they collapsed into the oblivion of sleep.

A warm puddle collected around her feet and the soft dripping of water echoed around her. Light reflected from the walls and drifted across the ground. She took a step forward to proceed down the dark chamber. "Hello?" Carly called out and heard her voice echo back to her. _Hello, hello, hello_. "Arianna told me that I needed to look for all of you. Where are you?"

Before, Carly had always come upon the cave and the cauldron, but now the dark chamber proceeded for as long as she could see. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw nothing but the dark chamber behind her with no entrance anywhere in evidence. The light still reflected off the walls and along the stream of water that ran along the floor. Carly knelt down to touch the water and found it viscous, almost like oil, but without a smell.

_Memory, child. That's what it is. _

Carly lifted up her head and saw the figures in front of her the light from beneath the cauldron reflecting off the liquid walls.

"Arianna sent me for new orders, since she says I'm a full member of the club, now."

_Blasphemy! Beg our forgiveness, child._

Carly was flattened against the floor and struggled to breathe, until she realized her dream self had no need to breathe. She raised herself up again. "Fine, I will be serious."

_How can you defy us?_

The figure stirring the cauldron reached in and grasped a ball of light. _She is more than our other children—she can harvest more—she can harvest the fairy dead and lift the poison from them, finally. She will send us their death, and we will speak to all our children again. She will move between all worlds. _

Laughter shook the walls of the cave, and the waters undulated in waves that split the smooth surface and allowed Carly to see behind the waters. Vast space lay behind them, twisting and turning into galactic depths, filled with points of light, star-like, that blinded her.

"What poison?"

_The fairies die, because they have shut themselves off from us. The weight of death poisons them and drains their life, so no new life comes to them. Their light pulses through you, your vampire's blood feeds it, you are more than the sum of your parts. Your vampire strengthens and protects you._

"So I can't hurt him? Arianna said I could destroy him."

_Fool—too long she's been away from her brothers and sisters. No death lingers around the vampire. Life force fuels the vampire, sustains it, no death lingers. Your vampire is safe with you, for now. You protect one another._

"Arianna said I had to learn to feed. How do I do that?"

_She failed to teach you? You see the waters rising around you, the waters shimmer before you. You take them in, transform them, and send them back into the world. You consume the waters, transform them, and send them back out into the world clean and ready for new life. You consume the waters, transform them, and send them..._

"Okay, I get it!"

_Think of the cauldron, Carly, what rises from the cauldron..._

"What about the fire? That came out of us, out of Eric and me"

_Yes, the fire, the fires! _

The laughter began again, and Carly could feel the ground tremble beneath her.

_You are more, you are what has been dreamed, child. The fires will burn, burn! Burn and renew! Burn!_

Carly awoke in a sweat, her alarm shrieking, her body trembling. Dragging herself from her bed, damp from her encounter with her "ancestors," Carly turned off the alarm clock and then walked to the bathroom and turned the cold water on to wash away their ominous glee. _The fires will burn, burn! _She wondered why the hell they were so happy and why Arianna seemed so out of touch with them. Perhaps she'd spent too much time alone, even though she seemed to be able to bring all the valkyries into her presence to yell at Carly. Of course, Carly also still didn't entirely understand why one of her own relatives had killed her father. Nor did she know how many of these creatures even existed. All she really knew about them was that she was the newest, but not entirely like them.

Examining herself in the mirror, Carly saw that she still appeared younger than she had the week before. A casual observer would perhaps guess she was twenty-two, perhaps twenty-four. After a quick shower, Carly dressed and composed a note for Eric.

Dear Eric,

I'm feeling better today, so I'm going to go ahead and go to work. I don't want to sit here all day without you. I had another conversation with these "ancestors," who assure me you're safe in my all-powerful hands. They didn't give me clear answers, but as long as I know I won't hurt you, I'll be fine. They did give me permission to go hunt down the death energy from the fairies...I don't really know what that means. Except I get to get to know Sookie a little better. I think I'll call her today and see if I can renew our acquaintance.

Love you, your Valkyrie

Carly hoped Eric appreciated her tongue-in-cheek description of herself, since she didn't see herself as "all powerful" by any means. On the drive in to work, Carly tried to concentrate on the day ahead of her and the work she had to do, but she kept getting distracted. Every few blocks as she drove through town, she thought she saw a faint shimmer coming from houses and buildings. Believing that something was wrong with her eyes, Carly pulled over, got out of the car, and rubbed her eyes. She surveyed the landscape and saw faint flickers across the city that looked like steam or the heat waves that stretch across blacktop on a hot day.

_Remember the cauldron_...

"Shit. I'm going to get a stomach ache." Carly realized that the faint shimmer she saw all around her was death energy, visible only to her or others like her. She wondered why she hadn't seen it before, but she realized she might have not have been looking for it, or she might not have been able to see it until she was "transformed."

Unwilling to start her day with consuming death, since she'd come unglued before. Carly wanted at least one, uneventful day at work, without being attacked, or convulsively painting, or cooking piles of food in some sort of manic frenzy. She got back into the car and drove the rest of the way to work.

As she walked in the front door, Aliya smiled, concerned, and said, "Carly, we weren't expecting you in today. Didn't you want to take a day off?"

"Nah. I'm better. Plus, I would probably just sit at home and stew." Carly smiled in return and headed back toward her office space.

Tracy popped out as Carly walked by and said, "Girl, you doing better?"

"Yeah, thanks. I'm fine."

"You tell that man of yours he's welcome any time, just to make sure I've got my fan with me," Tracy laughed. "Or tell him to be fully dressed!"

"He usually is." Carly giggled, embarrassed at the recollection of naked Eric as he intercepted her in the autopsy suite. As she turned to face her office, she noticed what looked like blue steam emanating from the carpet, from where Kumar tackled her the day before. "Tracy, is there any word on Dr. Kamal."

Suddenly much more serious, Tracy said, "Ellen left you a message. Didn't you get it?"

Carly dug around in her purse and extracted her cellphone, its battery dead. "I guess I didn't charge it."

"Honey, he died."

Looking at the shimmering space before her, Carly said, "How do you feel about that, Tracy?"

"God's got no problem with me, honey. He knows why I did what I did, and I'm still in his graces." Tracy looked over her reading glasses at Carly. "You too, honey."

"I don't know how god feels about me, Tracy." Carly chuckled deeply. "He might not know what to do with me." With that statement, Carly took two steps forward, breathed deeply and felt the sensation of water pouring over her, down her throat, down her skin, and pooling within her. At first, it burned, and Carly felt all she'd seen the day before in Kumar's mind, and she realized that he really was a psychopath, just as Eric had intuited. He felt himself to be the only real person in the world—everyone else was just a chess piece that he could manipulate around a board. When a person defied him, he would just beat them down, degrade them, until they bent to his will. Carly grasped hold of the memories suffusing her body and compressed them until they'd turned into a little ball of light within her.

"You okay, honey? You look dizzy," Tracy rushed to Carly's side.

"I think I need some air, Tracy, I feel sick."

Tracy guided Carly back toward the front entrance and led her through the door. "Sit down, honey, and I'll get you some water."

With Tracy out of sight, Carly imagined the cauldron, imagined the light that had been drawn out of it, and joined the light within her to it. As she breathed out, she felt the energy dissipate and felt herself lighten. A euphoria gripped her, and she lingered there on the steps enjoying the transformation of Kumar's ugliness into something bright and full of life.

A young woman walked in front of her on the sidewalk and stopped briefly to look around. After the woman turned back and forth a few times, she looked at Carly and smiled. "I'm sorry, excuse me, do you smell that?"

"What?" Carly wondered what her emanations would seem like to the outside world.

"Hyacinths and spring flowers—honeysuckle. It's weird." The girl laughed and touched her stomach lightly and then blushed. "Maybe I've gotten lucky this month. I've been trying to get pregnant. Sorry to bother you."

"No bother. Good luck."

When Tracy presented her with a cool cup of water, Carly could barely drink it, because of her laughter.

"Honey, are you sure you should be here?" Tracy put her hand across Carly's forehead.

"I'm fine. I'm fine..." Carly drifted off, chuckling lightly as she drank her water. "Those gods are just so damn literal."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Once Carly got back to work, after she'd cleansed the medical examiner's office of the last remnants of Dr. Kumar Kamal, her day passed uneventfully, even productively, and she concluded her afternoon, before returning home, with a call to Sookie.

"Hello," a perky young woman answered the phone.

"Hi, may I speak to Sookie?"

"She's at work, now, can I take a message?"

Carly assumed that the young woman was Hadley. "Hi, my name is Carly Michael. I don't know if you remember me. Is this Hadley?"

A squeal made Carly nearly drop the phone.

Hadley called loudly and enthusiastically, "Gran! It's Carly!"

Carly heard a great deal of commotion in the background, including the sound of a small child, who seemed to be knocking pots and pans together and saying, "Gran-gran!"

"Carly, I'm so glad you called," Hadley enthused. "You have no idea what it's meant for me to be back with my family—back with my son."

Since she'd spoken to Hadley for so little time, Carly couldn't even remember if she knew whether the woman had a child. "I'm glad to hear everything is going well for you."

"Oh it is! I'm working at the grocery store in town, and I get to see Hunter twice a week, and my ex and I are talking about seeing if I can start having him over on weekends too, and then maybe doing something about sharing custody later on." Hadley gasped a little, and Carly could hear her crying. "You really helped me get a second chance, Carly."

Humbled by Hadley's gratitude, Carly said quietly, "I'm happy for you, Hadley. I really am."

"Well, I know Sookie would be happy as can be to hear from you, Carly. Do you want to call her at Merlotte's?" Hadley paused before continuing. "I know she was eager to get to know you more."

The quiet recrimination in Hadley's voice stung, but Carly steeled herself against it and replied, "Yes, could you give me the number? I've lost it. It's been a little hard to settle in."

After Hadley gave Carly the number, they exchanged a few more pleasantries and then hung up. Carly looked over at the portraits that she'd completed that lined the wall of her work space. As she contemplated the faces that she'd restored to the unidentified dead, Carly thought about what it would mean to have a connection to Sookie, to have a friend, not just someone who tolerated her differences, or who didn't notice them, like the kids she'd grown up with who were on the autism spectrum and had difficulty communicating. As much as she longed for that connection, the idea of it terrified her. Intimacy was new to her—Eric made her feel loved and cherished, not just as a mind capable of a certain kind of intellectual work, but as a body, as a woman. Carly had no idea what it would mean to have a real friend. As she focused on Bertrand's portraits, she experienced the sensation of melting into the painting, as if she were somehow viewing his face in a mirror, from which he turned away toward another man. The two were playing cards.

"You been to see that doctor, Bert?"

"Oh, I been, but he don't have nothing for me," Bertrand replied.

"Well, you need to have him to send you to a shrink then."

"I ain't seeing a shrink. I done told you that already," he shook his head. "They're just gonna give me something to make me into a zombie, and I ain't gonna do that."

"You gotta do something." His partner laid down his cards. "You gotta do something, or you're gonna wind up bad, Bert. And we don't want to see that happen to you."

"I know..."

"We love you, Bert."

"I know...I love y'all too."

With those words, Carly drifted from the memory and returned to consciousness, sitting at her desk with her beeping phone receiver in her hand. She dialed Merlotte's number and listened to the phone ring on the other side.

A fierce-sounding man, who Carly guessed was Sam, answered the phone. "Merlotte's. What can I do you for?"

"Um, hi, can I speak to Sookie for a moment?"

With a protective tone in his voice, the man asked, "Who is this?"

"Carly Michael. I came in about a month or six weeks ago. I'm living in Shreveport..."

"Oh, yeah," he laughed. "Carly's cousin from New York City, that none of us heard about until you turned up and threw up in my bathroom. Let me get her. Or I guess you knew I was gonna say that, now, didn't you?"

"Sam, it doesn't work over the phone," Carly answered flatly.

"Good to know. Hard to get the rules straight from Sookie. Maybe you can fill me in sometime."

Carly heard the phone drop against something, presumably the desk or the wall, since she didn't know if she was calling a payphone or an office phone.

"Carly! It's so good of you to call, I was hoping I'd hear from you, but I guess I just thought I scared you off and all," Sookie sputtered, speaking so quickly that Carly could barely find a place to step into the conversation.

"Yeah, hi, Sookie, I'm sorry..."

"That's okay, I mean, you just moved across the country and all." After barely a breath, "Thanks for all you did for Hadley, we all really appreciate it. You know, her momma and our momma and daddy are dead and all, so we really only have each other and our gran."

"I didn't know that, Sookie." Without breathing, Carly said, "Sookie, can I come out and visit with you this weekend? I would like to get to know you better, since there aren't that many people like us in the world..."

"I've never met any other than you, Carly." A wistful lilt colored Sookie's voice, and it threatened to crack with emotion.

"Me either," Carly lied. "So when do you work this weekend?"

"I work the night shift on Saturday and then Sam's decided to start opening up for Sunday lunch, so I'll be doing that."

"Could we meet up Saturday around lunch time, then?"

"Oh, sure! That would be great! Can you come back out to Bon Temps?"

"If you don't mind. I'd like to meet your grandmother and say hi to Hadley again," Carly replied.

"That's just wonderful! Let me give you directions to my house."

After giving a complicated set of directions that ended on Hummingbird lane, Sookie called out, "I'll be there in a second," and said, "I better go. I've got tables waiting on their check."

Her date with Sookie set, Carly headed back to her house, hoping to have a bite to eat before Eric rose for the night. She brought out some of the food she'd cooked on Sunday and microwaved it and made a light salad to fill it out. She also turned on the news, which began with vampire-centered reports from around the state.

_Louisiana residents still struggle to come to terms with the reality of vampires in their midst. In fact, vampires are suspected in a number of recent unexplained crimes throughout the state, including one from this past weeken__d in __Avoyelles Parish. Waitress Cindy Marshall, who family members and acquaintances say was known to have intimate relations with area vampires, was found dead in her home by her brother. _

A pretty young waitress holding a pie popped up on the screen. As the newscaster discussed the case, Carly noted that he never described cause of death. Carly felt a wave of energy go through her and realized that Eric had awakened. Before she swallowed the bite of food she'd been chewing, Eric was behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

"Evening, lover. What are you watching so intently?" Eric asked as he tipped her chin backward so that he could bend down and kiss her.

"The news report about how horrible vampires are," Carly replied and added, "Of course, they mentioned nothing about how diabolically gorgeous you all are."

"Why report the obvious?" Eric laughed and sat next to her. "Tell me about goings on at the medical examiner."

"Kamal died, but his energy was lingering around the office." Carly recalled the sensation as she transformed death to life. She smiled, remembering the young woman she encountered on the steps of the office. "I think I may have helped kick-start a pregnancy after sucking up Kamal's death."

"That's unexpected." Eric looked at her intently and then smoothed her hair. "Perhaps you should consider how you release this energy back into the world."

"I guess I'm going to have to get used to it, and this would be nothing too extraordinary, from what I understand, I'll be sucking up the energy of the dead all the time now. I can see all the death everywhere now—the city's riddled with it."

"What does it look like?" Eric continued to stroke her hair.

Carly remembered the waves that shimmered across the city. "I guess the best way to describe it is like heat waves—like what you see mirages in."

"Do you see it around me?" Eric's voice suggested contained worry.

"No." Carly leaned in and kissed him. "You're as clean as a newborn babe."

"Excellent." Eric smirked. "Shall I take you with me to Fangtasia tonight?"

"Please." Remembering her level of productivity earlier in the day, Carly imagined no one would mind if she came in a few minutes late. "Let me call and leave a message for Ellen and then change."

"No." Eric grasped the back of Carly's neck gently. "I don't believe I will let you."

"What?"

Eric tossed Carly over his shoulder and rushed back into the wine cellar and tossed her onto the bed.

"Eric, what are you doing?" Tremors of fear quickly rattled through her amusement at his playfulness.

"I'm peckish." His fangs clicked into place, and Eric stripped off Carly's jeans. "I want some time to feed from you before you start preening to impress Pam."

"I don't preen for Pam." Carly lay on the bed, stunned, as Eric drew her knee up toward her chest and began licking the inside of her thigh. "Why are you being so rough, Eric?"

With a smirk, Eric said, "You're telling me a valkyrie can't play a little rough every once and a while?" Eric sank his fangs into Carly's thigh and sucked at the wound loudly and vigorously in time with her heart-beat. Then he bit his own tongue and healed the wound. After crawling up her body so that they were face to face, Eric kissed Carly violently, and growling said, "Your blood is heady tonight. Full of spices."

Carly pushed with all the strength she could manage and rolled Eric onto his back straddling him. As he laughed, Carly's rage surged and she sputtered, "I can play rough, vampire, but only when I want to, is that clear?" She grasped his throat. "I want my blood back." Carly jerked his chin to the side and bit into his neck and drank. Within a few moments, the two of them had stripped off all their clothes and were clawing at each other, both of them covered in blood.

Moaning, Eric penetrated Carly and dug deep into her. As she gasped, Eric whispered, "You are more like a vampire than you realize, my love. The only thing better would be if you liked having an audience." Biting and drinking from her again, Eric pressed his shoulder to her mouth for Carly to bite and drink. Swallowing him down by the mouthful, Carly felt her body electrify and spark, with waves of power going out into every direction.

"What the fuck!" Pam's sharp curse disturbed their embrace. "Where did you come from?"

"Eric!" Carly screamed, then grabbed hold of Eric by the neck and wished desperately to be back home. The same sensation—arcing power from every limb—ran through her and across into Eric and they were in the middle of the bed they'd left moments before.

Carly jumped up from the bed and ran to the stairs. "That's not fucking funny, Eric Northman!"

Disoriented and apparently dizzy, Eric struggled to rise. "What? What happened?"

"You know perfectly well what happened!" Carly ran upstairs to her bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Standing beneath a boiling hot stream of water, Carly tried to reconstruct what had happened. First, Eric demanded to be fed—violently—and then they'd torn at each other like animals, brutalizing each other passionately—it was unlike anything they'd done before. Then he'd said she was more a vampire than she'd admit—and then they were on the floor of Fangtasia, right in front of Pam, and god knows who else. And then then were back.

"Carly," Eric whispered. He stood inches behind her in the shower.

"How!" Carly pushed against his chest and nearly fell out of the shower before Eric grasped her to him.

"Shh...I don't know, Carly. Please, relax."

"Why did you do that?"

"I don't know that I did, Carly." Eric's flat tone betrayed no guilt.

"Yes, you had to. You said it! You said that I would be just like a vampire-" Carly pounded against Eric's chest, "and then we were on the floor in Fangtasia." Carly looked down at the drain as the blood circled it. "And now you're in here. I locked the door!"

"And I'm here. I wanted to be with you." Eric kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry if I took you to Fangtasia. I would never embarrass you..."

"But Pam saw us—and who the hell else? I don't know what's happening."

"Only staff would be there this time of night, Carly." Eric tried to soothe her as she cried. "And I doubt she even believes what she saw."

Carly couldn't deny Eric's logic—they weren't there but seconds. "Why were you so violent to me, Eric?"

"Did I hurt you?" Eric lifted her chin and looked into Carly's eyes. "Are you harmed?"

"No." Carly felt herself melt into Eric's body. "No. It felt..."

"Glorious?" Eric supplied.

"No! Frightening! You scared me, Eric!"

"I am a vampire, Carly. And you are a valkyrie." Kissing her roughly and dramatically, Eric pushed her against the wall. Finally, he released her from the kiss and whispered, "We are both terrifying and magnificent."

Eric held her there for a few minutes, staring into her eyes, willing her to see herself through his eyes, to see the myths and magic of valkyries that he remembered from his human life. Finally, her mind allowed his in, and she saw it all. As her eyelids trembled, Eric released her and then gently began to wash the blood from her skin and her hair.

"I will not harm you, Carly. I promise." Eric nuzzled into her neck and repeated, "I will never harm you."

The two of them dressed for Fangtasia, and Carly bristled as Eric kept checking his watch as she put on her face and saying, "Preening, Carly."

"I'm not preening." Carly looked at herself in the mirror and realized that she did look a little bit more like Pam than she looked herself. She shook her hair out, wiped off her lipstick, and said, "Okay, let's go."

Eric wrapped a shawl around Carly's shoulders and said, "That's better. I only need one Pam in my life. You're perfection as you are."

On the drive to the club, Carly asked, "What are we going to tell Pam?"

"About our unexpected entrance?" Eric laughed. "Since she believed my story about tunnels throughout Shreveport that led me to the ME's office, I don't believe we really have to say anything."

"But don't you think she's going to ask?" Carly's voice cracked as she imagined telling Pam that Eric thought she'd "enjoy an audience."

"She might." Eric pat Carly's knee. "And I will ask her whom she's been drinking."

"What?"

"I will suggest she hallucinated." Eric brushed his steering wheel dismissively.

"What if others saw?"

Eric shrugged and said, "Perhaps they all hallucinated."

Carly crossed her arms. "The master strategist at work, huh?"

"I believe you're worrying too much about this, Carly." Eric pulled into the employee lot behind the club.

"Fine, Eric, but it's going to fall to you to explain this to her." Carly climbed out of Eric's Corvette and headed toward the employee entrance.

When Carly opened the door, she jumped back slightly at the sight of Pam standing just inside the door, tapping her foot, arms crossed in annoyance.

"Well, explanation, please?" Pam demanded.

Carly retreated to stand behind Eric, who continued to stroll nonchalantly toward the door. "Pamela, how kind of you to greet us this evening." Eric grasped Carly's hand and pulled her through the door past Pam. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"Cut the bullshit, Eric." Pam followed close on their heels as Eric opened the office door for Carly and gestured toward his sofa."

"I don't know what bullshit you're referring to." Eric began to sort through a stack of mail that was at the edge of his desk. "But Pam, I tire of your insolence. I would have thought you'd grown beyond it."

Pam smiled, in a forced, saccharin smile. "Eric, about an hour and a half ago, I saw you and Carly rolling around on the floor, covered in blood, fucking each other's brains out!"

"Where?" Eric demanded as he walked to stand immediately before Pam.

"Right in the middle of the damned dance-floor!" Pam's voice sounded frantic.

"And you disapprove of this vision of yours?" Eric smiled. "It sounds to me as if it would look quite delicious."

"Eric, don't screw with me." Pam straightened up and looked over toward Carly. "Carly, help me out here. What the hell happened?"

Eric grasped Pam's chin and said, "My child, you do not have to concern yourself with us."

"But you don't understand it, Eric! You were there, and then in a second you were gone again!" Pam stomped her foot. "If you don't tell me what's going on, how can I help keep her safe!" Pam pointed vigorously toward Carly, who startled when Pam gestured so violently toward her.

"Eric," Carly interrupted. "Perhaps we should..."

"Yes," Eric said quietly. "Yes, we should be honest with you, Pam."

Carly reached out her hand to Pam. "Please, Pam, will you sit with me?"

Pam sat down next to Carly, and Eric sat on her other side. "What's going on with the two of you? Eric, I don't even know where you're spending most of your days."

"Pam," Eric said forcefully. "Just listen to Carly."

Carly took Pam's hand and said, "I appear to have developed the ability to transport people from one location to the other."

"And you thought it was a good idea to pop into the middle of Fangtasia in the middle of some fuckfest?" Pam's disbelief rang through the office and nearly shook the walls.

Carly closed her eyes and said, "No, that's not what I thought was a good idea."

Eric laughed.

"Then what? Just showing off? Rubbing in what I don't get to have any more" Pam stood up and started to pace around the small space, clicking her heels aggressively on the floor. "What the fuck are you laughing at, Eric?"

"I appear to have thought it a good idea, Pamela." Eric stood so rapidly that Carly could not see him move or pin Pamela against the door. He whispered ominously, "And you will recall who your maker is, my child. And you will honor my bonded companion. As I've told you."

Pam bent her head, "Yes, master." Turning to face Carly, Pam said softly, "I'm sorry, Carly."

A wave of sympathy for Pam rushed through Carly, along with the realization that Carly couldn't identify the sympathy as her own or Eric's. As Eric backed away from his progeny slowly, Carly stood and embraced Pam, who responded to the gesture stiffly. "I'll protect you too, Pam, as best as I can. And while Eric and I figure all this out, we'll keep you in the loop, okay? Eric might be my lover, but you're my friend, Pam."

The two women looked each other in the eye, and Pam smiled briefly. "Thanks, Carly. I don't really mind having you around. It breaks up the monotony, after all. It's nice to have someone to shop for."

Carly broke away from Pam and started to chuckle. "It's good to know you can keep things in the right perspective, Pam."

Pam looked back to her maker and asked, "So you can use Carly's abilities?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't know."

"Try," Pam prompted. "Send me to the other side of the office."

Eric stared at his progeny, squinted his eyes, and concentrated. Nothing changed.

Pam turned toward Carly. "Can you do it?"

Without knowing what the result would be, Carly stared at Pam and wished she'd change position, that she would be behind Eric's desk. Accompanied by a sound of an electrical shock, Pam stood behind the desk, wavering slightly.

"Shit, yeah," Pam said quietly.

Carly extended her hand to Eric and said, "Maybe it's like the fire, Eric."

Eric grasped Carly's hand and within seconds, Pam returned to her original position, accompanied by an electrical cracking.

"Damn." Pam started to laugh. "You're totally whipped now, Eric."

Carly pulled her hand from Eric's grasp quickly, since she imagined that Eric would likely send his progeny straight into the sun for suggesting such a thing.

"Well, we know a little more now, Pam. Thanks," Carly said quickly. "I don't know how I feel about your being able to drive like that. Doesn't seem quite fair, to be honest."

"Why not, you're my valkyrie, after all?" Eric smirked, "Every viking is promised one, after all."

Carly imagined herself in a Brunhilda costume, complete with breastplate and helmet, and couldn't help but start to laugh hysterically. "This is just too much, Eric. Please, just give me a minute."

Eric snaked his arm around Carly's waist and kissed her nose. "I'll be waiting for you, my darling. Don't keep me waiting."

Smiling, Pam and Eric exited the office and left Carly behind to lie on the sofa. She covered her eyes with her hands and wondered when she would get more concrete answers, or if she would ever get answers to her questions. Was she as bad as any vampire? Was she just as bloodthirsty and terrifying? _I can send people anywhere I want, or can I? Can I snap around the world at a whim?_

Although tempted to try to pop into New York for a quick conversation with Arianna, Carly resisted. After all, what would happen if she couldn't get back on her own? And was she limited to the world as she knew it? Could she demand an audience before the cauldron? Was she limited to her current moment in time, or could she insert herself into the past? _Not a good idea, Carly. Don't even think of it, _she demanded of herself. The "ancestors" had told her explicitly not to tamper with time, that changing history would consign her to the cave forever.

Steeling herself for her stroll into the club, where she would certainly spend the bulk of the evening sitting on the edge of the stage leaning against Eric, staving off the hateful thoughts of the crowds of fangbangers who were coveting his attentions, Carly stood, took a deep breath, and moved through the door. As she emerged from the hallway, Carly caught sight of Eric, who had been staring at the doorway waiting for her to emerge. He winked and raised a finger and spun it in a circle. The music quieted and then roared back to life. Calry heard the unmistakable strains of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" that accompanied her stroll up to the stage. Squinting in irritation, Carly stared at Eric, broadcasting her irritation through her sharp glare. As she moved onto the stage, Eric stood, and gestured for her to sit in his chair. When Carly shook her head, he bent down to whisper in her ear, "Shouldn't the viking do homage to his valkyrie rather than the reverse?"

"Not when the viking is a vampire, and the valkyrie is supposed to be an uninteresting human." Although Carly was annoyed that Eric was orchestrating a scene that had captured the entire club's attention, she was grateful to him for acknowledging their equality, at least in terms of their supernatural qualities, if in no other way. Carly moved Eric gently back toward his chair, and then slid down his body until she was on the floor before him on her knees.

With a broad, lascivious smile, Eric sat down, slouched, with his legs far apart. Carly rotated herself off her heels and then rested her head against Eric's thigh. As the music finished up, Carly luxuriated in the sensation of Eric stroking her hair gently and began filtering through the thoughts in the crowd, human and vampire.

Jealousy and desire seemed to be predominant until club-goers returned their attention away from the "floor-show" that Eric and Carly had put on and back to one another. Within a few minutes, the crowd returned its attention to the nightly dance of predator and prey: humans who fancied themselves vampires-in-training sought out likely victims (human and vampire) they could manipulate into various sexual games Carly found disgusting; vampires who sought a warm meal from an obliging human who wouldn't charge them for the service; and the lonely of both species who sought out an evening's companionship.

Increasingly, Carly decided that Fangtasia was just like every other nightclub or bar in the world; it just had a slightly different menu and clientele. As she had promised Eric and Pam when they opened the bar, Carly searched the crowd for malefactors-for drainers, prostitutes, or drug-dealers-who could endanger their business. Carly noticed that Pam was working the door, along with a stocky young man who was in charge of moving the red velvet rope and allowing entrance to the club. Pam's instincts about people, Carly thought, must be extraordinarily good, because she could sense few people, at least at this early hour, who seemed up to no good.

After about an hour, Carly began to doze off as she leaned against Eric's leg, until a sharp spike of anxiety startled her to full awareness. When she sat up straight, Eric leaned down and asked, "What is it?"

Carly turned her head to look at him and shook her head. "I don't know."

Eric offered her his hand and helped her rise. He steadied her for a moment and then said, "Let's circulate—you can see if you can get a hold on what you feel."

As they moved through the crowd toward the bar, Carly observed the looks of awe from the humans and the polite nods from the vampires in the group. When they got to the bar, Carly ordered a drink. Standing to the side of the bar, Esther, the vampire she'd come to know through the Christophe ordeal, looked toward the door in terror. Carly grabbed her drink and pulled Eric toward Esther.

"Esther, what?" Carly asked quietly, touching her forearm gently. A wave of fear and disgust moved through Carly as she grasped Esther's arm. Shaken, Carly asked more loudly, "Esther, tell me. What did you see?"

"A ghost," Esther shook her head. "I must be wrong..." Esther drifted into silence and stiffness.

"About what, Esther?" Carly shook Esther's arm to get her attention. "Tell me what you saw?"

"I thought I saw. . . a face I recognized." Esther kept drifting off.

"Who, Esther?" Eric asked loudly and then repeated himself. "Whom did you see, Esther?"

Looking up into Eric's face, Esther said quietly, "I didn't know his name. During the war," Esther closed her eyes and bloody tears began to well up in the corners.

Eric whispered in Carly's ear, "Get her back to my office. We can't let anyone see her cry."

Carly handed off her drink to Eric and pushed Esther, nearly stony in her immobility, back toward Eric's office. After tremendous effort, Carly managed to get Esther to Eric's office. Carly pulled a box of tissues from Eric's desk and offered them to Esther, but she wouldn't take them. She just sat, catatonic, with blood pouring from the corners of her eyes.

Somewhat exasperated, Carly pulled tissues from the box and wiped Esther's face before the tears dried. Tapping Esther's face gently, Carly said, "Esther, tell me who you saw."

"He was in the SS. I was forced to … please him." Esther drew in a sharp breath and then more tears began to fall. "He violated me, he was the first. They wouldn't tell me his name, but they said that he got to take our virginity, that it was his privilege to destroy our race. He put something inside me..."

Carly brought Esther close to her and held her as a mother holds a wounded child. Knowing that Pam had some extra clothes at the club, Carly allowed Esther to cry as hard as she needed to. Carly tried to tune into Esther's mind, but all she felt was pain, the sensation of being ripped apart from her hips up. The pain was excruciating, so Carly pulled her mind away and began rocking Esther back and forth gently.

"It's over now, Esther. You're a vampire. He can't hurt you. What can an old human do to you? You're strong now." Carly tried to reason with the woman, who sat up straight again, rigid with fear.

"No, Carly, he wasn't changed! He ...he is vampire as well." Esther blubbered and then said, "He is a vampire. Someone turned that monster into a vampire."

Carly heard a sharp rap at the door that she recognized as Eric's. Within a second, he opened the door. Carly could tell he was not happy at all.

"Did you find him, Eric?" Carly asked quietly as she held the weeping vampire's hand. "Yes, and Taryn is going to take Esther back to the nest and make sure she's fed." The red-haired pixie of a vampire stood behind Eric. "You'll go through the back, Esther, so you won't have to see him." Eric drew Esther up to standing, and then handed her off to Taryn, who rushed through the back door with Esther.

Eric looked down at the sofa at Carly's dress and shook his head. He closed his eyes, which fluttered, and then opened them again, all without speaking. "Pam will get you something to wear. You can't go back out there like that."

"Who did she see, Eric?" Carly was impatient for information, but the only thing that she got from Eric was an impatiently raised palm.

"I need to think, Carly," Eric snapped at her.

At the moment when Carly was about to stand and scold Eric for shutting her out, Pam walked in and said, "Always trouble, aren't you? Let's get you changed."

"Eric?" Cary asked again.

"I have to call Godric, Carly." Eric picked up the phone. "Go."

Turning to Pam, Carly asked, "Can you just drive me home?"

"Sure, cupcake. That okay with you, master?" Pam queried.

"Go," Eric said, still holding the receiver of an undialed phone in his hands.

Carly grabbed her purse and walked out the rear exit to Pam's minivan. The two women climbed into the vehicle in silence and remained so until they'd driven halfway to Carly's home. Finally, Pam broke into the silence.

"Don't be too hard on him when he's like that," she offered.

Carly turned, surprised that Eric's snarky, bratty progeny was defending his behavior, since Carly imagined that her presence in his life had made Pam's existence a little lonelier.

"I won't be," Carly assured. Turning to look out at the buildings that passed by her, Carly saw that the ripples of death were still visible to her at night. She wondered why she hadn't noticed them on the way to the club, but then realized that Eric had held her attention for the entire drive. As they passed an empty lot that resonated with energy so vibrantly it seemed almost solid, Carly asked, "Could we turn around and pull over, Pam?"

"Yeah, sure, why?"

"There's just something I've got to take care of." Carly pointed to the lot, and Pam drew the minivan to the side.

Carly hopped out and looked at the lot, which was sequestered from the rest of the street by a chain, attached at the corners of the lot to posts. Remembering the heels she was wearing, Carly stared through the veil of energy to look for broken glass. There wasn't much, so she decided the glass posed less risk to her well-being than the turned ankle or fall that would result from wearing her heels. She slipped them off, and then stepped over the chain into the lot.

Immediately, Carly felt her temperature rise, felt her skin burning, and saw fire on every side of her. A house-fire, of course, Carly thought. Carly walked toward he center of the lot, breathing in deeply, and Carly felt the presence of a family—an elderly grandmother who struggled to free her grandchildren from their room after a roof-beam had crashed in front of their door, blocking them inside. She felt the smoke burn their lungs, felt the weight of fallen beams on their father, felt the blood pool around their mother's head as she lay on the kitchen floor, surrounded by flames from the exploded water heater that began the fire, and killed them all in a horrible conflagration. With another deep breath, Carly took in what was left of their lives, the last remnants of their energy signatures, and let it swirl around inside her. As the voices of the children—crying in their rooms as the smoke overwhelmed them and then the laughter of playing in the front yard years prior to the fire—subsided, Carly lifted her hands and stood with her palms to the sky. "Let it be free," Carly whispered, and felt the energy surge through her hands and disappear.

Carly wiped tears from her face and turned to face Pam, who looked shaken. Smiling, Carly asked, "What? You're going to swallow a fly if you don't shut your mouth, Pam."

"What the hell was that, Carly?"

"Just doing my job, Pam." Carly climbed back over the chain and then slipped her pumps back on. "What did you see?"

"You were on fucking fire, Carly!" Pam yelled. "And then," Pam gestured toward the lot to a circle of flowers that had appeared around where Carly had been standing, "it was gone, and these fucking flowers blossomed out of nowhere."

Carly giggled and said, "Sounds like all in a day's work for a valkyrie, Pam." Carly climbed into the minivan, leaving Pam to stare at the flowers. "Come on, let's go. People will begin to wonder."

After Pam climbed back into the car, she said quietly, "You're fucking scary, Carly."

"Eric said as much earlier." Carly looked out the window, grateful that the "digestion" of this energy seemed to be easier now. Wondering out loud, Carly said, "I wonder if you were the only person who saw that."

"How the hell should I know?" Pam responded in anger. "I didn't take a survey."

Carly started to laugh and said, "Pam, you're terrific, you know that?"

"Of course, I do." Pam smirked for a moment, but then added, "But you're still scary as hell."

"Then we're even, because you're damn scary too."

After a few more minutes, Pam and Carly pulled into her driveway. "Can you come in, Pam, I'd like to talk with you a little more about what happened earlier."

"Sure, but Eric didn't share anything with me, either," Pam answered defensively. "When he does that –Go-" Pam raised a hand in imitation of Eric's dismissal, "shit, then it's for everybody, me included."

"Sure," Carly smiled, remembering that Pam's vanity was her greatest weakness, "but you're smart, and I'm smart, so we can figure it out without his having to tell us anything. Remember, we're two scary smart bitches," Carly giggled.

"Well, yes, but I have no clue what set Esther off to start with." Pam dove into the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table.

"Lucky that I do, then." Carly grabbed a Tru Blood and put it in the warmer and poured herself a glass of wine. "Let me get out of this dress, okay."

"Can I watch?" Pam looked over her shoulder and winked at at Carly.

"You've already seen way more of me tonight than I feel comfortable with."

Pam put out a pouting lip and said, "Too bad."

Carly grabbed a t-shirt and pair of jeans and went into the bathroom to change. The dress, a rayon halter that Pam had picked out for her, seemed ruined. Perhaps Pam knew how to get blood out of such garments, she thought.

"Okay," Carly said when she grabbed the Tru Blood and the wine, "Esther got freaked out because she saw someone who had raped her during the war."

"In Poland?" Pam asked as she took a sip. "She was in a Nazi-run brothel, right?"

Carly nodded and added, "She said he was an SS officer and the first person to rape her."

Pam's eyes met Carly's and the vampire winced. "I hated those guys." After another drink, Pam added, "You know where I was during the war?"

"Paris, right?"

"Yeah," Pam put down the bottle on the coffee table. "Eric and Godric left me there, while they went looking for someone. They wouldn't tell me why," Pam said and then looked at Carly. "I'm guessing you know, but I won't ask you to tell tales out of school."

"Thanks." Carly was grateful that Pam had a clear sense of boundaries. "But you ran a brothel there, right?"

"Yes," Pam extended her arms along the back of the couch. "I'm an expert. But I kept those SS fucks away from my girls. They were cruel and most of them couldn't get it up to save their lives, or they wouldn't pay what they owed. I also didn't want them anywhere near us, because girls were also hiding a lot of family and friends in the building. If the SS started sniffing around, I could wind up with a serious problem."

"So they ran their own brothels?"

"Yes, especially near the camps in Poland." Pam took another swig of blood and added, "That came out after the war, although the US was pretty puritanical during the fifties, so you didn't see much about it. Those bastards didn't give a damn whether the pussy they used was Aryan or not."

"So we're looking for someone who took proprietary interest in Polish SS-run brothels in 1943, when Esther was taken." A shiver ran up Carly's spine, and she added, "We're probably looking for Himmler."

Pam whispered, "Fucking shit." She sucked down the rest of her Tru Blood and said, "Sometimes I wish I could still drink Bourbon."

"Why?"

"Because that's where I'd seen him." Pam shook her head. "I should have realized it. When he showed me his ID, he said he was there to present himself, and he had a letter of introduction for Eric, but I didn't think anything of it."

"So you recognized him?" Carly began shivering violently. "You recognized Heinrich Himmler?"

"Henry Welkin—that's what his ID said." Pam scoffed loudly. "Letter of introduction from fucking Mississippi." Pam stood up. "Where's your recycling?"

The banal question roused Carly, and she pointed to the kitchen. "Under the sink. Blue can."

After Pam disposed of the bottle, she turned to Carly and said, "This is fun and all, but I gotta get back to work, cupcake."

"No problem," Carly replied and stood up to accompany Pam to the door. "See you."

Carly locked up the door and went to the sofa, curling up under a throw-blanket that had laid across the back of the sofa since she'd moved in. Running through the inventory of reasons for Eric's dismay, Carly could identify at least three: 1) Himmler was most likely Russell Edgington's progeny; 2) Himmler was horrifyingly dangerous as a human, so he would likely be even worse as a vampire, and he could wreak unimaginable havoc in Shreveport; and 3) Himmler's presence in Louisiana would present a huge political problem for Godric if people began to recognize him.

At that moment, Carly wondered if Eric worried whether Himmler could be finally brought to justice for his human crimes. _Probably not_, she thought, although Carly remembered that Eric thirsted for justice for his human family. Perhaps a part of Eric still believed in the rules of the blood feud. Perhaps Eric wanted Himmler brought to human justice. And perhaps, Carly thought, pigs could start to fly.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

With bright morning sun streaming through the windows into her eyes, Carly awoke, still cuddled beneath the throw blanket on the sofa. Her limbs protested as she stretched them. She slept—dreamlessly—through the night on the couch without changing position at all. After a much needed trip to the bathroom, Carly drifted to her purse and checked her messages. Nothing. No text or voice message from Eric. Carly contemplated the war jargon: radio silence. Since she was awake much earlier than she'd anticipated yesterday evening as she and Eric tore into each other, Carly decided to eat, shower, and go into work. With her afternoon commitment to the nursing home, Carly was better off, anyway, going into work on time. If nothing else, she'd feel more like a normal employee.

On the drive into work, Carly thought over Esther's panic attack the night before and wondered what the Nazi's arrival in Shreveport would mean for Esther, Eric, and Godric—and by extension, for her. First, she had no idea what kind of protocol drove Eric's decisions to allow or deny entrance to his area to other vampires. He'd mentioned, in passing, that the sheriff had great discretion in admitting new vampires to his territory, but he never really said anything about the criteria he used to determine whether or not someone belonged in his area. In the very few instances Carly knew of, Eric had simply granted residency in exchange for assurances that the vampires would comply with his rules and make their time available to him. She suspected, although Eric hadn't confirmed as much, that he had a schedule worked up so there were always vampires at Fangtasia, even if they weren't in the mood to go to the club.

But having one of the chief architects of the Holocaust schmoozing at the bar would not be good for Eric's business. While she hadn't recognized "Henry Welkin," Carly was sure that at least one History Channel aficionado would pass through the club sooner or later and see through the transparent calque of his name for who the monster really was. Next, Carly wondered what sorts of rules vampires worked out amongst themselves about turning such people—monsters, criminals, serial killers. She knew, from what happened with Christophe, that becoming a vampire was an attractive prospect to a psychopath. A shiver went up her spine as she thought of it: how many people went to Fangtasia in search of a maker, or someone who would enable them to carry out their murderous fantasies with more impunity than a human might have?

Eric rarely, if ever, talked about politics, but Carly felt certain that vampires with the America Vampire League—or the "Authority"-had to be negotiating these issues with Congress as they formulated legislation about vampires and vampire-human relations.

When she arrived at the medical examiner's office, her first stop was to check in with Ellen, who had been occupied by giving court testimony the day before. She hadn't seen her since "the incident."

Carly heard Ellen rustling around in her office, moving papers, opening and closing drawers, and then, suddenly, Ellen called out, "Fucking hell!"

After a gingerly tap on the door frame, Carly asked, "Everything okay?"

Ellen startled and turned around suddenly, "Sorry, Carly, I didn't know you were here. I thought you were planning to come in late today?"

After a quick smile, Carly shrugged and said, "I got home earlier than I anticipated. So there was no good excuse to be tardy."

"Well," Ellen said and then became distracted again amidst the papers.

"Is there anything I can do, Ellen?"

"What," Ellen turned around again to address Carly, "no, I'm sorry, Carly." Ellen sat suddenly in her chair, seemingly deflated. "Sit, let's talk a minute. How are you?"

Carly anticipated some sort of debriefing about Dr. Kamal's death, but didn't really feel she needed it. "To be honest, I'm surprisingly well, all things considered." In her mind, Carly added, _Unless a long-thought-dead Nazi vampire starts causing shit for my boyfriend and his maker._

"I'm glad to hear it." Ellen sighed and closed her eyes.

"How about you?" Carly paused to wait for Ellen's response, which was not immediately forthcoming, and then added, "You seem to be in some distress this morning."

Ellen took a deep breath and then spoke. "I am, Carly. I'm sorry." She began to fidget with a pen that was on the desk in front of her. "I have to testify again today, and I can't find these notes to myself that I made after my testimony yesterday. I had them in my hand, and now they're just gone." Ellen turned to look out the window.

After another moment of silence, Carly added, "That can't be all that's wrong." Even though she didn't like spying on her friends and colleagues, Carly dipped into Ellen's mind.

_I'm going to have to decide what to do about treatment, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep it from everybody. No one wants to have an interim...and no one will trust me for a replacement. I don't know why I'm so damned scared to talk about it..._

Ellen smiled weakly and said, "Well, I've had a lot of stuff on my mind lately. Kamal just made it all rise to the surface."

"We haven't known each other very long, Ellen, but..."

Ellen interrupted, "You probably know me just as well as you want to, though, don't you?" She smiled again weakly and added, "I've been trying as hard as I can not to think about it."

_Cancer..._

"You've done really well." Carly realized that Ellen hadn't been inviting her to lunch lately, or pausing long to talk about cases, but had avoided spending time with her in the last couple of weeks. "When did you find out?"

Ellen let out an involuntary sniffle. "Close the door, Carly, please."

Carly closed the door to the office and asked, "Does Tracy know?"

"Just you." After closing her eyes and reaching for a tissue to dry her quickly tearing eyes, Ellen added, "And I don't really know how much you know."

"As much as you want me to, Ellen."

The two women locked eyes, and Carly tried to project as much empathy as she could toward her supervisor and friend.

_Ovarian...Haven't been feeling well...digestive trouble...went for a couple of visits to different doctors...wound up at the OB/GYN who tested me. Got the news Monday by phone—fucking murderous asshole. If I hadn't been dealing with him all day I could have gone to the hospital to see the specialist._

"How advanced is it?" Carly asked.

_Doctor is hopeful. Question is whether to clean house or just take ovaries._

"Any benefit from keeping..." Carly paused trying to find the right words, "the musculature and fat?"

Ellen shrugged. "I don't know. I can't see the oncologist now until Friday."

Without any more questions, Carly jumped up and walked around the desk and hugged Ellen. "I wish I could take this from you, Ellen."

_Thank you, Carly, thank you...I'm going to fall apart..._

"No, you're going to do just fine." Ellen smiled and asked, "When do you remember last having the notes in your hand?"

_Thank you...Carly, you're a good person..._

After a little visualization, Ellen and Carly finally located the notes, which Ellen had left inside the file drawer where she'd pulled out more materials for the trial. Carly left Ellen to go back to the courthouse for the trial and went into her office to work. Looking through her own notes, Carly decided that she needed to begin a couple of the disinterment cases that had been sent up from New Orleans. She dreaded going to the city itself because its facilities were still in such chaos and she feared she wouldn't be able to work in a quiet space with sufficient materials. She also didn't want to spend a few weeks every couple of months in a hotel. Perhaps, she thought, Godric would be willing to put her up when she traveled down to New Orleans. Maybe Eric might even be willing to accompany her.

Local morticians and medical examiners in and around New Orleans were working with most of the remains whose coffins survived, or whose embalming still allowed for identification. Carly was only going to get the older bones, which may or may not still be articulated. The priority, she was told, was to return skulls, if nothing else, to their original graves so that families and communities could restore a sense of "personhood" to their cemeteries.

Carly began with the skull of a young woman that she estimated, from the skeletonization, appeared to be from the mid 1800s. Holding it in her hands, without her gloves, Carly traced the sutures on the skull that reflected the young woman's age—probably about 16 or 17. As she held the skull, she began to see a face materialize around it, eyes closed. A lovely young woman with bronze skin soon appeared, and without warning, opened her eyes to look at Carly.

With a sharp squeal, Carly set the skull down on her work table and stared back into the young woman's eyes.

"Well, this is a first," Carly whispered, still trying to settle her now racing heart.

The woman's mouth moved slightly, and the eyebrows angled upward while a look of pain and fear settled onto the woman's brow. Summoning up her courage, Carly gently touched the woman's cheek and said, "I'm here to help you."

As soon as her mouth closed around the final word, Carly felt herself pulled into the twilight of a bustling New Orleans street some time in the mid nineteenth century. She felt a sudden, sharp squeeze of her hand, and looked to the source of the sensation-

"What's your name?" Carly asked.

"Je m'appelles Marie-Clarie," the bronze-faced woman said. Marie-Claire tugged aggressively at Carly's arm and directed the two of them into a storefront.

"Marie-Claire," a elderly, hunched woman said, "you're finally here. You're late."

Marie-Claire spoke French, as did the store-keeper, but Carly followed along. "My apologies," Marie-Claire said, nodding her head submissively.

"Well, you will not be late as a placée," the old woman scowled. "Your time is your man's."

"Yes," Marie-Claire replied. "I know."

"Hm. Do you?" After rummaging around underneath her front counter, the old woman retrieved a long piece of parchment as well as a cloth poppet. "You will commit to your place, child. Your mother consigned you to it, but you must commit yourself." The woman gestured for Marie-Claire to approach her, and the young Creole woman complied.

The elderly woman pulled a hair from Marie-Claire bronze mane and the tied it around the poppet's neck.

"Your blood, Marie-Claire," the old woman demanded, and Marie-Claire held up her arm so that the crone could slit her arm and draw her blood over the poppet. The crone began to intone and rock back and forth, and Carly felt a surge of energy around her.

Moments passed, and the old crone whispered, "You belong to him, and to his master, now, Marie-Claire. Go to him."

"Thank you, mamma," the young woman whispered.

Carly seemed invisible to the old crone, although Marie-Claire seemed to know she was there. But then, without warning, the crone said, "She who breaks time stirs the cauldron, child. Do not break time. Let this come to pass."

Before Carly could gasp, she was through the door, still firmly in Marie-Claire's grip. Marie-Claire sang quietly to herself and walked down the avenue until taking a turn and mounting into a waiting carriage. "I belong to him and to his master," the young woman sighed. "Forever, his and his master's."

Carly watched out the window as the streets passed until a familiar building—Queen Sophie-Ann's palace—came into view. As the carriage pulled into the circular drive and the wheels crunched against the gravel, Carly contemplated what all this meant. _Magically contracted—is that possible—she was contracted as a mistress in New Orleans in the 1700s. But she belongs to a man and to his master. Was it a vampire? Sophie-Ann? I never wanted to see her again—not even in the past._

A footman opened the carriage door. "Mademoiselle, you've been awaited."

Marie-Claire stepped down onto the drive with Carly still following close behind in her invisible wake. Carly recognized Andre as he descended down marble stairs toward them within seconds, even though he dressed as an eighteenth century French dandy.

"My darling," he smiled, and opened his arms to Marie-Claire. "How long I've waited for you!"

Marie-Claire curtsied and said, "Sir, I am now yours."

"How delightful!" Andre touched Marie-Claire's forearm, and Carly felt the shiver that went through the young woman. "You are a vision, and you smell simply divine." The vampire breathed in deeply as she walked past him. "I am so grateful to mamma and to your mamma for consenting."

Carly could feel the woman's desolation as she walked further into the palace, and Carly couldn't understand why or how Marie-Claire seemed to go so willingly, clearly, to the slaughter.

"My mamma did not know what she consented to," Marie-Claire whispered, with some defiance, under her breath. "But you know that."

"Well," Andre scoffed, "we get what we want. And you have such potential for us, Marie-Claire. With the rightsize coaching—you will give us a great deal." Andre opened a dark mahogany door to a set of stairs that descended into a damp crypt. "After you, my pet."

Carly felt herself displaced, and she followed Marie-Claire at a precarious angle until the came to the foot of the stairs, where Sophie-Ann sat on a gilded throne.

"Mademoiselle Marie-Claire, what a pleasure to have you here." Sophie-Ann rose gracefully and moved toward the young woman who stood before her, taking her arm and walking slowly toward an iron door. "I believe it is time for you to meet your new man. I believe the two of you will get on famously, since I believe you are cousins on your father's side. In fact, I count on your getting on well—and often. Please excuse Andre and me for not joining you within. I find your new beloved quite irresistible." Sophie-Ann snapped her fingers, and two burly men took hold of Marie-Claire. Once she was in their grasp, Sophie-Ann and Andre mounted the stairs.

When the mahogany door closed, one of the huge men opened the iron barrier and said, "You're in for quite a ride, mademoiselle. I've never seen one of them before coming to work for the queen. But we left the good parts unchained, just for you."

Carly, still tethered to Marie-Claire saw within the door an iron-sheathed cell that held a tall, fair, angelic man whose feet were fixed to the wall with iron shackles.

Marie-Claire was shoved inside the cell, and the heavy iron door slammed behind her. The young woman stared at the chained creature and said, "I now belong to you, according to your master."

"I have no master but my prince, child." The chained creature looked past Marie-Claire to Carly, whom he addressed. "You have no place here."

Marie-Claire, however, answered. "I am to be your placée, to give you comfort."

"Then come comfort me, child." He extended his hand toward Marie-Claire and beckoned her toward him. "Disrobe."

Closing her eyes and breathing slowly to calm herself, Marie-Claire undressed, and then walked to stand in front of the stranger. He grabbed by the neck and spun her around to face the wall. Carly tried to look away as he pushed himself into Marie-Claire but couldn't. Understanding that she was condemned to suffer Marie-Claire's death along with her, Carly waited, knowing that the woman's death must be imminent.

As the chained creature pumped into Marie-Claire, he sqeezed her neck until her eyes went dead. After exhaling an animalistic groan, the creature dropped Marie-Claire's body, and said, "You have past an unpleasant test, valkyrie."

"Who are you?" Carly began to shake with fear and confusion, since she still lingered in this dreamscape.

"Murtagh of the sky fae," he said as he kicked Marie-Claire's body toward the door. "The queen and her minion captured me and wish for me to sire young ones that they can slake their thirst upon. I refuse."

"But did you have to rape her?" All Carly understood was that she was stranded there, wherever it was, with an iron door behind her and a monstrous, brutal fairy before her.

"Was that rape? It was what she was bred for, except that I didn't let my seed take hold." Murtagh shrugged. "I should have let her starve? Or allowed Andre to drain her? You didn't hear her pleas to free her?"

"No." Carly shook her head. "Why am I still here?"

"You are here to learn the power of fae energy." Murtagh extended himself along the floor until he'd gathered all Marie-Claire's garments to him. "My magic, which clung to the girl, holds you here." Murtagh ripped at Marie-Claire's petticoats, until he'd exposed the metal rings that kept her skirts rigid. "My prince brought you here so that you do not injure yourself when you clear his grand-daughter's lands. They are ripe with death and will continue to be until the water fae are subdued." After exposing one end of an iron stay, Murtagh wrapped his hands in the torn cloth. "Do you have any questions?"

Carly looked down at Marie-Claire's body. "Do you know her last name?"

"Her father concealed himself on this plane as Marcel de Blanc, so his son likely kept that name as well, and passed it on to his daughter." Murtagh positioned the iron stay above his heart and said, "The blood of the fae within you might respond to our energy and our magic, valkyrie. Guard yourself well." With those words, Murtagh fell upon the stay, plunging it deep into his chest.

As suddenly as she'd been pulled into Marie-Claire's existence, Carly was cast back out into her own moment, to her own workspace, where she stood before Marie-Claire's skull. Collapsing onto her chair, Carly leaned back and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she exhaled loudly and said, "Well, Mademoiselle LeBlanc, what makes me think you didn't have a grave marker?"

Carly put Marie-Claire's skull back into its case and washed her hands before heading outside for some fresh air. Passing Tracy's office, Carly said, "Hi," meekly and continued by at a swift pace.

"Carly, wait a second, I'll go outside with you," Tracy huffed a little as she hurried after. "I need to talk with you about something."

"Sure." Carly smiled and added, "I really need some air."

"No problem, honey," Tracy replied, taking Carly's arm and shepherding her toward the rear door. "Let's go out the back. I wanted to talk with you, see if you can put a bug in your man's ear about something."

As they crossed the threshold onto the rear loading dock, Tracy crossed her arm and said, "Carly, can you promise not to say who told you this?"

"What, Tracy?" Carly watched as Tracy's usual openness, her usual courage evaporated. "What's going on?"

"It's my cousin, down in New Orleans, Octavia." Tracy rubbed her hands and kneaded them in anxiety.

"Is she okay?" Carly looked into Tracy's eyes and saw worry, but not urgency. "What's going on?"

"Well, she called me last night, asked if I'd talk to you." Tracy looked around the edge of the building in one direction and then the other. "She said that some people had disappeared from New Orleans and that I should tell your man."

"Why can't she tell Godric herself?" Carly recalled Tracy's oblique remarks about her cousin, who was "in-the-know" about vampire politics.

"They haven't been introduced yet, and Octavia's not eager to make the acquaintance." Tracy raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "She's scared half to death of him, said he was older and more powerful than anyone, and that she wasn't sure he was stable right yet."

Carly felt frustration growing within her. "You're not giving me a lot to tell Eric, Tracy." Concentrating on the image of Octavia that Tracy held in her mind, Carly followed Tracy's chain of thought—_Children of light are disappearing, Tracy. Old families, old power, but they're just up and vanishing, and I can't trace them. But there's a vampire, a vampire I see, familiar, but he's on the move..._

"Tracy, can you just spit it out?"

"Carly, do I have to say it?" Tracy scowled at Carly. "Octavia told me what you can do, all of it. She had a vision about you, says you'll change Louisiana, finally make it a place worth living after you've been here a hundred years or so."

_A hundred years? Damn it, damn it. _Carly breathed in and asked, "Okay, but who are the 'children of light'?"

"Octavia told me that you and Eric are sworn to protect one out in Renard Parish," Tracy crossed her arms, "which is the reason she wants me to talk to you. She said you knew where she was, but Octavia can't find her. Octavia said there must be major magic watching out for her."

"I can't tell her..."

Tracy put up her hand, "You're not gonna tell me nothing, Carly."

"But," Carly sputtered, "you just..."

"I didn't say nothing," Tracy replied, "I don't even know what you're talking about. Enjoy the air, honey."

With those oblique departing words, Tracy scanned her security card and went back in the building. Carly thought over Tracy's information. A vampire was kidnapping part fairies in southern Louisiana. First, and foremost, Carly wondered how many of these people were littering the landscape. Who would know? Carly would have to bring it up with Eric, who might be able to put her in touch with the King of New York or with the Magister. Of course, the more important question was why didn't Octavia trust Godric? Why did she think he wasn't stable?

Carly decided she would just wait to talk with Eric, presuming he was free to talk with her later that night. Carly spent the rest of her day searching the gravesite directory for Marie-Claire LeBlanc, without success. After completing her search of the gravesites, Carly decided to search genealogical websites for the LeBlanc family, especially the "wrong side of the bed." Records reflected the birth and marriage of a Marie-Claire LeBlanc, but no death. The records also showed that she was the youngest child in the placée family of four children, while the white family had another five children. Carly found a LeBlanc family website that included information about a recent "mixer"-including captioned pictures. Searching on the captioned names, Carly discovered a news report about one of the prominent members of the family.

"Edward LeBlanc Turner was reported missing by his sister Tuesday. Turner, a prominent New Orleans banker, reportedly maintained close contact with his siblings and cousins, who became suspicious after he missed a family gathering. Turner is the third member of the extended LeBlanc family to go missing in the last two weeks. Police and local prosecutors have spent over two hundred hours questioning family, friends, and employees without uncovering any relevant information regarding their disappearances."

Carly printed copies of the family tree and of the news article and put them in her purse. She gathered up the container of supplies she'd gathered for the nursing home visit. It took her two trips to get everything to the car, including the portrait of Bertrand that she'd done and planned to show.

When Carly arrived at the nursing home, Evelyn was waiting outside for her with a dolly for the supplies. "Carly, dear, you certainly brought more than I was expecting!"

"Well," Carly smiled and added, "I love shopping for supplies. This just gave me an excuse."

"The residents will be grateful, I'm certain." Evelyn carried the portfolio case with Bertrand's portrait within toward the multi-purpose room. "We'll set you up in here, Carly. The light's good. That's important to you artists, isn't it?"

"Yes, thanks." Carly looked around at the flowered wallpaper, the high-backed chairs, and the wide doors, all of which suggested "nursing home," more clearly than the sign above the front door. Nevertheless, the light was good, and Carly quickly set up her easel and laid out the other supplies for the class. Once she finished her preparatory tasks, Carly scanned for the exit into the resident's rooms. As she approached, Carly saw ripples of energy slipping toward her along the floor. Taking one step into the energy, Carly breathed deeply and took in the swirling energies, the remains of at least half a dozen distinct lives. Feeling them move through her, Carly stumbled and braced herself against the wall.

"Carly," Evelyn called to her. "The nurse assistants are going to start helping residents into the room. Are you ready?"

With another deep breath, Carly said unsteadily, "Yeah, sure. I just—I just wanted to look around a little bit."

"Do you know anyone here, Carly?" Evelyn's voice was gentle, and Carly felt euphoria take hold of her.

"No," Carly said, as the drunkenness took hold of her. "I guess it's just the smell. It's stronger than I would have guessed. I'm a little light-headed."

The placid, accommodating look on Evelyn's face evaporated. "I guess I've grown accustomed to it, Carly. I didn't think it was that strong."

Closing her eyes, Carly thought for a moment about how she was going to transform and expel this energy in front of an audience. As the energy pumped through her, Carly remembered how she'd painted, transforming the energy into art. "I guess I have to go back and meet my students." Carly smiled weakly and gestured for Evelyn to lead the way back to the room where everything was ready for her to begin.

When Carly walked back into the room, she saw Martha, the friendly Irish centenarian stationed behind a table at the front of the class.

"Carly, I told you I'd be in your class!" Martha exclaimed. "Thank you so much for doing this!"

"Martha," Carly embraced the old woman and teetered slightly as she stood, "thank you for drumming up interest."

As Carly looked around the room, she took in the nine elderly residents, and one middle-aged one, visible to her through a cloud of shimmering energy with varying densities. Some of the residents were nearly obscured, but all she could see clearly seemed eager to begin.

"Is everyone here?" Evelyn asked a nurse assistant who was stationed near the door. The nurse's assistant nodded affirmatively toward Evelyn and Carly.

"Well, then, let's get started," Evelyn said slowly and at high volume. Carly made a mental note to speak up and speak clearly. "I think you all know me. I'm Evelyn, and I help out around here to schedule activities for everyone. This here is Carly Michael, and Carly's come to talk with us a little bit about art-" Evelyn turned to Carly, who steadied herself against he frame of one of the easels- "and to show us some of her pieces, right, Carly?"

"Yes, well, thank you all for having me," Carly began, sharing a smile with Evelyn and Martha. "As Evelyn mentioned, I'm here to talk a little bit about art and show you a few tricks for drawing people." Carly looked at a few of the less attentive faces in her audience and decided that she might as well be as honest as possible with these people—that the truth might be more engaging than a generic art lesson in the late afternoon before dinner. "I don't really remember how much I told Evelyn when we met, but I'm not just a garden variety artist. I do a very special, and I think important, kind of art." Carly took a cover off the first easel, which concealed an image of Bertrand's skull—fully cleaned.

A few people in the audience whistled or gave a quiet gasp. Carly looked to Martha, who was still smiling, somewhat proudly, and Evelyn, who smiled with encouragement.

"Have any of you ever seen the show _CSI? _Some medical examiners seek help from forensic artists, like me, to help give a name to unidentified human remains. I work here in Shreveport for the medical examiner, but a federally funded grant pays my salary."

A man two rows back in the room called out, "Is this somebody they found here?"

"No, sir." Carly noticed a number of military pins on his lapels. "This man was found in Baton Rouge. I've brought two pictures and the painted portrait that I made that reconstructs how he looked in life, at least at the end of it."

"He murdered?" The same gentleman asked.

"No, sir. The medical examiner and I don't believe he was. We think he died of natural causes or exposure," Carly explained. "I wouldn't have brought a portrait of an unidentified murder victim, simply because if, on the off chance one of you recognized him or her, it might be a shock to learn such a thing about someone you all knew."

A woman sitting next to Martha said, "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, ma'am." Carly smiled, even though she still felt off kilter. Their interrogation was more than a little amusing, given the context. She doubted the residents were often in control during most conversations. "I'm originally from New York City."

The disclosure elicited more sounds of surprise from the group. Looking around to see if she had their attention again, Carly said, "When I receive a set of remains, my primary focus is on the skull, so that I can rebuild the face, although I also look for markers of stature, weight, and occupation, which can help with identifications as well."

Carly uncovered the second picture, which showed all of the tissue depth markers that she applied to a model of Bertrand's skull. "This is a replica of the skull," she added for the benefit of the class. "I calculate, based on surface features of the bones, how deep the tissues around the skull would likely have been."

"Are you going to have us work with clay?" The old veteran asked. "That will make one helluva mess."

Carly laughed. "No, not today. I could, but we're just going to do some drawing. I wanted to show you what I do before we get started."

As Carly leaned toward the third easel, she stumbled slightly and knocked the easel with her painting on it to the ground. "Oops." Carly laughed and felt as if she were going to faint. "I think I need to sit down," she said, grabbing a chair. Carly looked over at Evelyn, who was trotting toward her.

"Are you okay, Carly?" Evelyn said with great concern.

Running through her mind in search of a better excuse than the smell of hospital cleaners, Carly landed on a probable explanation, apart from the energy of death that still coursed through her body, mind, and whatever she had that approximated a soul—she couldn't remember eating anything since breakfast.

"Do you think that they might be able to find some juice?" Carly shrugged, "I think I might have missed lunch."

"Anna," Evelyn waved over at the nurse's assistant. "Do you think you could grab a couple cups of juice for Carly?"

Scanning the concerned faces, Carly tried to compensate as quick as she could. "I guess I was a little too excited about seeing all of you today. I shouldn't have skipped lunch." Carly could hear the "Tut-tuts" from the southern grandmas who would scold her if they got a chance.

Carly righted the easel and the now uncovered portrait of Bertrand. As Carly stood up, she heard a quiet voice say, "Well, I'll be damned."

"Excuse me?" Carly asked. "Did someone say something?"

"That's Bert Phillips," the talkative gentleman said. "He was one of my enlisted men in Vietnam."

Feigning surprise at hearing Bertrand's name, Carly said, "You knew him, sir?"

"Colonel?" Evelyn asked, "Was this man one of your soldiers?"

"Yes, that's what I said, Evelyn." The colonel shook his head with something between happy recollection and sorrow. "I ran into him in Baton Rouge about 1980—what was it, 1982—down at the VA. He was a good man." He shook his head with guilt and grief. "But no one buried him?"

"Well, sir," Carly debated how much to tell them, "he was found buried, but outside a graveyard. When construction on the lot started, his body was discovered."

"Glad to hear it." The colonel smiled. "I guess you need to bring all your pictures over to the old fogy home, now don't you?"

Carly smiled. "I think I will."

With Bertrand identified, Carly began her art lesson in earnest. Once she'd talked about imagined light sources, she showed the class how they could construct a face from combinations of circles and lines. She knew that she should check on each of the residents in turn, inspect their drawings, give assistance or guidance as necessary, but she feared the effects the energy would have on her as she took it in since she still felt altered from the first dose she took in upon her arrival.

Carly went first to Evelyn and asked, "How do you think it's going?"

"Beautifully, Carly. I think everyone's enjoying themselves." Evelyn pointed to the colonel, "And Colonel Mays is certainly proud of himself."

"Deservedly so. I really appreciate the information." Carly smiled. "I'm still feeling a little woozy. Do you think I could get more juice?"

"Sure thing," Evelyn said. "I'll be back in two shakes."

Steeling herself for the effects, Carly began the circuit around the room, planning to end with Martha, who, Carly thought, couldn't have possibly acquired much more death energy since the previous weekend.

Most of the energy that clung to the residents came from deceased spouses, or parents, but as Carly approached the colonel, she became aware that energies much more complex, more desperate, surrounded him.

Evelyn returned with two cups of juice, covered in foil, and a granola bar. "Are you feeling all right, Carly?"

"No. I don't. Light-headed again." Carly felt white heat rolling up her arms and horrible stench crawling into her nose. "I need to talk to the colonel. Can you pull a chair up to his table for me?"

Carly took a step toward his table and, as the sensations overcame her, she collapsed to the chair Evelyn brought toward her.

"You should go home dear," Evelyn clucked. "The colonel will be here next week. You can talk with him then."

"You know, I think I just need some air. Is there a garden or anywhere I could go?" Carly felt a compulsion to touch soil, to transfer the energy churning and changing within her into something alive, or capable of supporting life.

"There's a courtyard." Evelyn pointed, and Carly followed Anna through a couple of doors into a small grassy courtyard with a few wan flowers.

Carly lay on the grass and curled herself into a ball. Visions of lives led and lost swam through Carly's mind, but she enveloped them in light until they were refined, until they were devoid of sorrow, loss, or grief. Until death was transformed into something radiant, into life. Carly felt the energy discharge into the grass through her hair and her hands. After a few minutes on the ground, Carly felt herself again and went inside. As she shut the door behind her, she noticed the overgrown grass, the vibrant blossoms, and a sprouting tree within the courtyard.

Carly walked back into the room, where Evelyn rushed around gathering up pencils and erasers, stacking up unused paper, and returning the large photos and the painting to their portfolio. The colonel, sheathed in a dense cloud of energy, remained.

"Evelyn, thank you for putting everything together for me." Carly smiled, adding, "And thank you Colonel Mays for your help."

"No problem, Ms. Michael," the colonel nodded. "I just thought I should stick around so that I could share what little information I had. I called him Bert, but that wasn't his Christian name. It was Bertrand. And I believe he was originally from Chicago, or maybe St. Louis."

"Thank you for waiting." Carly breathed in deeply and approached the colonel, dragging the chair Evelyn had provided along with her. As she approached, the horrible feeling and the stench returned. Her knees buckled, and she sat down a few feet away from the colonel, at the edge of the energy. "So," her voice shaky, Carly asked, "where did you serve in the war?"

"I graduated from West Point just as we were leaving Korea, and then served all through Vietnam." The colonel looked over his glasses at Carly and took in her unease. "The men on the ground were good. They were doing what they were asked, and they did it courageously."

Carly nodded and said, "I don't judge, sir."

"Well," he replied, "you seem a little uncomfortable talking with me about it."

"I'm still a little queasy. Sorry." Carly smiled weakly as a vision of a burning building came into her mind. "Did you ever work with bombing?"

The colonel looked down at his hands. "A little bit. We didn't always have the best information."

Carly felt like a wall of fire hit her and moved through her. The ends of her hair tingled and stood away from her head. Unable to breathe, Carly sat as still as possible as the wave retreated back through her and returned to its source, around the colonel.

With its retreat, Carly realized that there was so much death that surrounded him, that was bound to him, that she couldn't take it all in, not even a bit of it. The energy left by tens of thousands dead at his command, drawn to him, Carly did not doubt, by his regret and his guilt was now as much a part of him as his memory or his rank. No valkyrie would be able to draw it off until the colonel himself died.

"Well, colonel, I'm still feeling a little under the weather." Carly squeezed his hand and heard his thoughts clearly, _Must be a hard job. Young girl like that. Seems soft-hearted. Doubt she could get anything from those poor Cambodians—when will I forget? When will they leave me?_ "Maybe I could tell you about some of my other cases some other time."

"Maybe." He smiled in return. "I was wondering how someone like you can do a job like that. It seems like it would be hard to do every day."

"Someone has to," Carly stood up and added, "and I seem to have a gift for it."

"You got Bert just right. I knew him the moment I got a glimpse of it." The colonel chuckled. "I've got some good stories about him I'll tell you some time you come."

"I'd like that."

Carly loaded everything, with Evelyn's help, back in her car, and drove toward Fangtasia, stopping at a local restaurant for something more substantial than cups of juice and a granola bar.

A few minutes after the sun went down, Carly's phone rang. Carly waited until the caller ID displayed Eric's office at Fangtasia to answer. "Hi, Eric. How is everything."

"Bleak, without you."

The smooth sound of his voice made Carly's heartbeat accelerate. "I missed you, too. But there are some things I need to talk with you about. I'm almost to Fangtasia, if I can come by?"

"Always, Carly." Eric paused for a moment and then added, "If you don't mind, though, I'd like you to come to New Orleans with me tonight."

"I'm glad I have an overnight bag in the car, then." Carly began keeping a packed bag in her trunk after a few unexpected sleepovers before Eric began keeping clothes and underwear at his house for her.

"I asked Pam to bring an outfit from home for you, since we'll be at court." Eric sighed. "You understand, don't you?"

"He's the king, Eric." Carly giggled. "Just tell Pam that it needs to be presentable."

Carly paid her bill and headed to Fangtasia, where she saw a line forming by the front door. At the back door, next to the employee entrance, Eric and Pam were standing, waiting for Carly. Pam held a garment bag, and Eric stood, arms crossed, expectant.

When Carly got out of the car, Eric swept her up in his arms and kissed her neck gently and then her lips more insistently, and Carly relaxed into his embrace, feeling safe, loved, and content. When she ran short of breath, Carly pushed Eric away gently.

Eric pushed her forehead against Carly's and whispered, "You are so sweet. I dread missing one moment with you."

"Same to you, my viking." Carly smiled at Pam, "Nice to see you too, Pam."

"Yeah, lovely family reunion." Pam looked meaningfully at her watch, "The pilot's waiting for us, Eric."

"True." Eric wrapped his arm around Carly. "Get your bag, Carly, please."

"What's the urgency?" Carly asked as she moved to the trunk.

"Godric wishes to confer with the three of us about our unexpected guest of last night." Eric took Carly's bag. "But we will wait until plane to discuss the issue in more detail."

"Eric," Pam said with a warning tone.

"Yes, Pam," Eric replied impatiently, "discuss is just a verb of convenience." Turning his attention back to Carly, "Eric said, "Do you have a pad we might be able to take along with us."

"My sketchbook's in my purse, like always." Carly nodded at both vampires and put her forefinger against her lip.

"The Magister was so impressed with your sketch, I thought Godric might appreciate one as well." Eric smiled broadly at Carly.

"Of course, I'd be happy to oblige." _So Eric thinks the club, Pam's van, and the plane might be bugged. Who would do that?_

"What did you bring for me, Pam?"

Pam smirked wryly, "Something that shows your assets off well, my delectable friend."

The trio drove to the airport in silence that was occasionally punctuated by banal smalltalk about the bar, or Carly's day. Once they arrived at the airport, Carly pulled her sketchbook and a pencil from her bag. She drew a question mark at the top of a blank page.

Eric wrote: _Godric asked me to allow Himmler into my area, so that we could keep tabs on him. Godric suspects he's been in New Orleans, but can't determine if he has been._

Carly took the pad back, read it, and wrote. _Tracy told me her cousin—the witch Octavia—wanted me to say that three part fairies had disappeared from New Orleans. And one contacted me._

"What?" Eric said audibly once he read the page.

"Eric," Carly pointed to the page. _I was working on a skull—a part fairy who had been-_ "Shit, this is hard."

"I know, Carly."

"Ahem," Pam said loudly.

"Yes, Pam." Eric replied. "Please try, Carly."

"Okay." _Sophie-Ann and Andre had captured a fairy named Murtagh and then contracted with a mixed race part fairy-_

"Redundant, Carly," Eric contributed.

_She was a placée_.

"I understand."

_He raped her and then killed her. He was awful. And then he killed himself with one of her iron petticoat stays._

_They are not kind, _Eric wrote. _I think they are more brutal than we are. And cannibals._

"Charming," Carly added. _Did you know Sophie-Ann had tried to breed fairies?_

"No, but that was long before my time."

"Am I going to have to muzzle you two?" Pam chastised and then sighed, unnecessarily.

"No, Pamela, you will not." Eric grabbed the sketchbook and pencil. "Perhaps Godric will know more."

"I hope. It would be nice to get an answer or two."

"Indeed."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N All references to True Blood or Sookie Stackhouse are the property of Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris. I'm playing with mythology in this, so I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 11

As the plane rolled to stop on the New Orleans runway, Carly looked over to Pam and said, "Okay, Pam, I'm ready. How are you going to dress your Barbie doll tonight?"

Pam smiled wryly and said, "I bought it just for you, dear-heart. I like it."

"No hints?" Carly sighed as she unbuckled her seat-belt. "Did you bring shoes?"

"Just wait until we get to the restroom, Carly."

Eric and Pam carried their luggage toward a waiting limousine. Smiling to Carly, he said, "I guess you'll have to change in the car." He winked. "No one will mind."

"Except me." Carly huffed and stopped walking. "I really can't change clothes in a moving car."

With a shrug, "Then we'll ask him to wait."

"And all three of you will wait outside while I change." Carly grabbed the garment bag from Pam, considered it for a moment, and said, "It doesn't even feel like there's anything in this."

After Eric ordered the driver from the car, Carly crawled into the passenger area and opened the bag. Within, she found a thin silk garment suspended by a neck band. After twisting and turning it, Carly couldn't figure it out, so she opened the door and called to Pam, "Instructions, please."

"It's backless, Carly. Just button the band around your neck and everything will fall into place." Pam laughed. "Quite literally."

With a little more contemplation, Carly realized that Pam chose a dress that made undergarments nearly impossible. In a small pocket of the garment bag she found a red silk thong of the same fabric and color. "I'm knitting the woman long wool underwear for Christmas," Carly muttered as she stripped.

Once Carly was "dressed," because that was the last thing she would call her state, she opened the door and said, "Okay, jokers, you can get in now."

As he climbed in, Eric ogled her. "Delightful choice, Pam. You've outdone yourself."

"I thought so," the vampire said proudly. "I've been waiting for a special occasion." Smiling, with her fangs out, Pam said, "You have no idea how wonderful it is to have someone else to shop for."

"Especially when she's almost the same size and complexion, right?" Carly doubted Pam shopped altruistically. "Does radio silence extend to this car as well?"

"Just to be safe." Eric said, stroking Carly's exposed thigh. "Once we get to Godric's palace, we will reconsider once Pam discloses her evidence." Kissing Carly's shoulder, Eric whispered, "I should have had Pam sit with the driver."

"Oh," Pam inserted, "don't hold back on my account. I love a show before dinner."

"Pamela," Eric chastised. "You will not tease Carly."

"And you should keep on message, Eric." Pam laughed again, "What am I supposed to think when the two of you pop into the club naked..."

"Pam!" Carly implored. "Please, stop."

"All in fun, Carly." Crossing her arms with a combination of petulance and playfullnes, Pam said, "For a breather, you're a lot of fun. And if I can't fuck you, you have to let me tease you."

"That is enough, Pam," Eric menaced as he zoomed across the car to loom over her.

Pam nodded and lowered her eyes.

Eric moved slowly to return next to Carly, and the three completed the journey in silence.

When they pulled into the driveway of Godric's palace, Eric said, "Pam, leave the car."

Once Pam was outside, Eric asked, "Are you comfortable in that dress? Do you want to change back into your own clothes?"

"No," Carly appreciated Eric's empathy—or show of it. "I'll be fine, but I need to put on the shoes once I'm out of the car."

Eric grabbed the fantastically high sling-back shoes that Pam chose and placed them on the drive so that Carly could step into them as she left the car. With as much modesty as the dress allowed, Carly stepped into the heels and allowed the dress to fall into place as she straightened up.

"Perfection!" Eric said quietly and kissed Carly's forehead, cheek, neck, and lips. "I need everyone to know that you're mine." His fangs falling into place, Eric said, "Do you mind wearing my mark?"

Carly brushed her hair from neck and placed her hands on Eric's shoulders. "It's a privilege, Eric."

After kissing and nuzzling into the portion of her neck left bare by the silk ribbons that suspended the dress from the red band, Eric bit her and took one mouthful of blood and then licked the blood away from the wound. "More delicious every time, my beloved."

"Thank you."

"Okay, love-birds, we're expected." Pam tapped her foot.

"Who made you the task master, Pam?" Carly asked.

"My maker." Pam proceeded up the stairs of the newly renovated palace.

Carly recalled, with some trepidation, her last real visit to the palace—Edgar's staking, Sophie-Ann's and Andre's brutality toward her, their disintegration into ancient human remains, her fear for herself and Eric. As they reached the threshold, Carly stopped, recalling the way she vomited once she regained consciousness.

She was also haunted by her visionary visit to the palace and what she witnessed during those moments shadowing Marie-Claire. Carly wondered if Godric had found the cellar that once contained a full fairy and his unlucky and murdered consort.

"Are you all right?" Eric squeezed her hand compassionately. "Remember, you're safe here."

"Thank you, I know." Carly smiled wistfully. "I hope things have changed under Godric's leadership."

"I think you'll be pleased, Carly," Eric gestured toward the door. "Things are radically different."

A visibly middle-aged vampire opened the door as they approached. "Sheriff," he acknowledged. "Our king expects you within. Please, follow me."

The foyer was radically different than it had been during Sophie-Ann's rule, and Carly realized that Godric had uncovered the "bones" of the building. In fact, she noticed the similarity to the palace she saw in her vision of Marie-Claire's death. _If that is true, he must have found the dungeon._

As they walked toward the library, Carly recognized Melissa, now in a modest, but elegant dress walking toward them.

"Carly, it's so wonderful to see you again!" Melissa embraced Carly and at the touch of their cheeks, every thought and wish Melissa had regarding their visit came spilling forth. _I hope she's proud of me, wait until she sees and hears what Godric and I are doing. How he treats me like an advisor. Wish I could still be his girlfriend too, but there's more of a future for me as his coordinator. _

As they separated, Melissa nodded to Eric and said, "Sheriff, it's a honor to see you again." Looking toward Pam and nodding, "And I am happy to make your acquaintance. My name is Melissa, and I serve the king."

"You can call me Pam," the vampire replied. "Anytime," she added.

Melissa smiled faintly and said, "Thank you. The king is waiting for you, but he wanted me to greet you all personally." Melissa reached out to squeeze Carly's hand. "I think he knew that you would like to know that I was well."

"You certainly look good," Carly said. Since she already knew so much, that Melissa had withdrawn from school and moved to the palace, and that Godric had helped Melissa's mother get out of her abusive marriage and relocate to Metairie to be near her daughter, Carly had some difficulty formulating the right question. "So are you here full-time now?"

"Yes," Melissa said excitedly. "Godric has me working as his 'hospitality coordinator.' I guess I could say that I' the caterer," she laughed heartily. "But he had the best idea about how to get food for the vampires who will be visiting."

"What is he doing?" Carly was genuinely interested in how Godric would feed himself and his guests, since Sophie-Ann kept a menagerie of humans who were nearly glamoured out of all meaningful existence.

"It's really exciting." Melissa smiled eagerly. "Godric figured out that since he couldn't just serve synthetic blood to guests, that he needed healthy humans available as donors, but he didn't want to have a procurer or make humans feel like prostitutes. And then he also figured that young humans would most need the money and be most willing. So he's hired me to supervise the building of a dormitory for donors who are students at area colleges."

"Wow," Carly said as the idea, somewhat unseemly, settled in. "Um, so the students will know, right, that they're going to be donors?"

"Of course, Carly." Gesticulating wildly, Melissa added, "There are going to be all kinds of rules. Students have to promise to eat most of their meals at the dorm, and not smoke or take drugs, and there'll be a counselor on staff in case any of them get upset, and they can stay out the semester without having to donate if they don't want to keep doing it." Melissa reacted to the clear distaste that still lingered on Carly's face. "Their room and board will be covered, their health insurance too, and they'll get a stipend. No one will donate more than once every two weeks."

"I guess it seems like a good thing, although I hope there's some intake evaluation too, so that you know none of the students are suicidal—or homicidal."

"Oh, yeah, the counselor and a psychaitrist will evaluate all the applicants." Melissa looked at Carly intently and added, "And I'm only donating for Godric, but a phlebotemist takes it. I'm just working for him now—we have a professional relationship, and I'll be starting at Tulane in the spring semester. I'll be the 'house mother,' I guess, in the dormitory."

Carly could tell how much Melissa sought her approval, so she said, "It seems like a really positive situation, Melissa. I'm glad you're happy with it."

As they finished their conversation, they approached Godric's library.

"Well," Melissa said, "thank you, Carly. We'll be doing all sorts of academic programs too, so we'll have you come give a talk about forensic anthropology." Melissa opened the door and shepherded them inside. "Godric, they're here."

Godric sat in an elegant, green velvet winged back chair, reading a heavy book. Carly tried to catch a glimpse of its print, but failed, as Godric put it face down on a table next to him.

Eric walked into the library first and knelt before Godric and said, "My king and maker."

"Eric, stand," Godric said. "You know that it gives me joy to see you, even in circumstances such as these. You don't need to demonstrate your submission to me."

"Thank you, Godric." Eric gestured toward Pam and Carly. "You remember my child, Pam, and my bonded companion, Carly."

"Both are unforgettable, child." Godric extended his hand toward Pam, who walked to his chair and curtsied deeply.

"My king," Pam said, "thank you for the audience."

"Rise, child of my child."

Godric smiled to Carly and extended his hand. "And you, Carly, I should more rightly kneel before you."

Just as Carly took a step toward Godric, she had the sensation of walking into a wall of fabric, the image of Godric sitting in his chair impressed upon it. But as she walked further into the room, the image stretched and tore. Beyond the tattered fabric lay another tableau: a man who looked much like Godric, with short dark hair, but a beard that obscured his middle-aged chin, similarly tattooed around his shoulders, with additional tattoos along his forearms, sat in a heavy wooden chair with bronze decorations. The scene was dark, with a fire burning in the center the wooden room.

Carly felt herself move toward the man, who she now realized wore a golden circlet around his head and additional circlets around his wrists. Then she sank to her knees and, with her hands next to her sides, lowered her head to his lap.

Once she lay the right side of her face on his lap, the scene evaporated, and she was again in Godric's library, with her head on Godric's lap.

"You never cease to surprise me, child," Godric said quietly. Raising her face from his lap and holding it in both hands. "Where did you learn the pledge of fealty used by my people?"

"No idea, Godric," Carly said, with her voice wavering.

Godric stood, raising Carly with him and moving her toward Eric. "It is perhaps foolish to ask such a question to someone such as you, who has access to all time and space."

"Do you need something, Carly?" Eric asked. "You look shaken."

"I'm a little wobbly. I don't really know what happened there—it was like I was somewhere else for a moment, but I guess you saw what I felt I was doing." Carly looked at Godric suddenly, "Did you ever do that for your father or an uncle?"

Godric nodded, "Many times. The last time the night before I was taken."

Carly recalled her visions of the Roman army in the distance, her vision of Godric sneaking out from his home. Shaking away the memories, "I would like a glass of red wine if one is available, please."

"Of course, Carly." Godric smiled and said, "One is on the way."

In a few minutes, a butler knocked once and entered with a glass of red wine on a gold platter. "Madam," he said, as he handed it to Carly.

Carly looked at Eric with some distress, but he responded immediately with an explanation.

"My king, Carly wonders how you summoned someone not your child. Perhaps you could explain to her how vampires may be remade."

"Ah, yes, Carly." Godric nodded to the butler, who began speaking in response.

"My maker met his final death twenty-five years ago when he was caught in a hurricane in Florida and his home collapsed. Even though it was dark, the sunlight was enough to be his undoing." The butler gestured toward Godric. "When I learned that Queen Sophie-Ann was finished and that Godric was to be our new king, I offered my services. Godric drained me almost completely, and then gave me his own blood. We spent one night together in a grave, and I rose remade, committed to Godric. I am not his child, in that my demise would not pain him, but he may summon me as he would a child."

"Marcus has been an important addition to my nest," Godric said. "His maker had great integrity and chose him for good reasons. His intelligence will be a great asset."

"Thank you, your majesty." Marcus smiled at Carly. "I have also pledged my life to his progeny and to their progeny. And to you as well, Ms. Michael."

"Thanks, Marcus." Carly felt the intensity of vampire's gaze and the force of his integrity. As Carly concentrated, she also heard him. _Hope Godric knows how grateful I am, that everything I say is true, wish I could let him know how little I trust some of the others...Compton especially._ "Marcus, do you have any concerns about any of the vampires in Godric's court?"

With even more intensity, Marcus said, "Yes, thank you, Ms. Michael." He turned toward Godric and sank to one knee. "Your majesty, I have concerns that Nakamura, Philips, and Compton aren't to be trusted. I saw Nakamura glamouring a human—a human in a uniform—and overheard him say Fangtasia. I'm concerned that Nakamura is coordinating espionage against the Sheriffs. Philips seems intent on undermining your new projects, particularly the dormitory. She has tried on a number of occasions to get access to Melissa, although I have been guarding her as instructed. And Compton seems too obsequious and too intent on gathering information about all of the vampires on staff. He has asked me too many inappropriate questions about my own history and my maker's."

Godric considered the vampire before him. "Why have you not shared these thoughts before, Marcus?"

Looking up at his king and re-maker, Marcus said, "I don't know, your majesty. I doubted my own suspicions and feared that you might believe it simple jealousy since they each had higher profile duties than mine."

"Yours," Godric leaned forward and spoke slowly, "is the most important position in my court, Marcus. You, especially now, are the most trusted vampire in New Orleans." Leaning backward, Godric added, "Nakamura is a spy from the authority, who still covets New Orleans, and I was aware of his deceit, although I strive to find a way to contain him. My hope is that Carly can assist in that containment this evening. Please summon him for me. Have him wait in the foyer until we call for him if he arrives before we are finished with our preliminary conversations."

"As you wish, your majesty," Marcus stood and left the room.

"Before we go further, please know that I have swept my personal spaces in the palace, as well as those that are hidden from view. No listening or viewing devices remain." Godric walked toward one of the bookshelves and tripped a concealed switch, which allowed the bookshelf to open. "Carly, please finish or leave your wine. We have much to discuss."

Carly placed her wine on a coaster, and then followed Godric and Pam down an old cast iron ladder embedded in the brick. Eric brought up the rear of their party. As Carly descended the ladder, a sweet smell became stronger and stronger. Carly also became aware that two vampires waited down below for them in the cellar. Trusting that Godric knew what he was doing, and that he would be stronger and faster than anyone who might attack, Carly remained quiet.

Eric, however, did not. "Godric, Carly senses something that she is keeping to herself."

"It is most likely the presences waiting for us in the substructure." Godric chuckled. "You are formidable, the two of you."

They descended the last ten feet of the ladder and were greeted cheerfully by a familiar voice: "That is almost exactly what I said when I met Carly and saw her with the viking."

"Magister," Eric said, "what an unexpected pleasure."

The Magister stood at the base of the ladder, leaning on his walking stick. He looked somehow paler and more drawn since the last time they had seen him. Behind him, within the chamber that Carly recognized from her vision, sat an elderly woman, frail, with eyes obscured by cataracts.

"I feel the valkyrie. Bring her to me," the old woman said in heavily accented English.

Carly approached and the force of the woman's charisma, the weight of her power, brought Carly to her knees before her. "I have no idea what to call you, but mother seems appropriate somehow."

Breaking out into a hearty, crackling laugh, the old woman said, "Oh, yes, valkyrie. That will do well. My child's child told me you would amuse me. And you are worthy of initiation, although the other woman must prove herself to me. Vampire, come."

No one moved for a minute, until Eric finally said, "Pam, she's talking to you."

Sauntering toward the seated woman, Pam made a show to stand defiantly until Eric directed, "Kneel, Pam."

Without hesitation, Pam sank to her knees and said, "Why do I need to prove myself?"

"You do not need to, woman. I can dismiss you from the initiation, but you must swear your silence," the elderly woman drew an ancient obsidian dagger, wrapped with serpentine bronze, from a demure handbag on her lap. "Do you wish to be initiated into the mystery?"

"Hell, no," Pam drawled. "Sounds too much like work. But I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Your right hand," the old woman ordered. Pam lifted her hand in front of her face while the elder continued, "Do you swear to conceal the existence of this mystery and the identities of those who have access to it?

"Sure," Pam said. Before Pam closed her mouth, the elder slashed her hand with the dagger and collected the resulting blood onto the blade.

The pool of blood remained for a moment until it disappeared with a sizzle.

"If you disclose our secret, the rest of you will burn in just the same way, vampire." The ancient laid the dagger across her lap and dismissed Pam with a flick of her wrist.

"Fine," Pam huffed, stood, and then asked Godric, "Is there an easier way out, my king?"

Godric pointed, "Stairs are that way, Pamela."

"I'll be upstairs then." Pam shot a glance to Carly and said, "This is big shit, kid. Keep your wits about you."

Eric walked to stand before the elderly woman, knelt, and said, "Most ancient Pythia, my apologies for my child's attitude. I will serve you in whatever way you require."

"Rise, viking, your maker has already said the same and, as he serves, you serve."

Throughout all these discussions, Carly remained at the woman's feet. Once she heard the name, she thought to herself, _Pythia...the Oracle of Delphi...seriously?_

"Valkyrie," Pythia turned her attention back to Carly, "you wonder who I am, perhaps? But you know, yes?"

Carly raised her eyes directly into the old woman's gaze. "I suspect, mother." Returning to her feet, Carly said, "If Eric calls you Pythia, I can only guess that once you were the Oracle at Delphi. Am I correct?"

"Indeed, child." The ancient creature glanced at the floor, and an ecstatic look transformed her face. "I once served as a conduit between the worlds, between the past, the present, and the future. But I have since served the mysteries, as my maker did, and as have my children, and their children, and their children."

"Yes, mother." Carly looked back to the dagger, still laying across the elder's lap. "That dagger—looks thousands of years old. Am I imagining that?"

"My maker added the bronze handle for ease of use, but the obsidian is original," the Pythia smiled. "You shall be initiated into the mystery, along with your viking and his maker."

Eric took Carly's hand and gave it a small squeeze. "Pythia, we are honored to be offered the privilege, but I would prefer not to expose Carly to any more risk or any more obligations. The last few weeks have been difficult for her, and her world has changed dramatically."

"I am aware," the Pythia said authoritatively. "Yet the mysteries will make clear the reasons why you must neutralize the coming threats. Reconciliation, balance, and healing are the reason for the mysteries, and the three of you have been called. Carly has awakened valkyrie, so she is already charged to do the work of the mysteries, but she knows only one perspective."

A wave of awe rose through Carly, and she felt a compulsion greater than anything she'd ever experienced prior. Carly fell to her knees and said, "I beg initiation, mother." With an intuition that she could reconcile her dream world and her waking world, Carly wanted initiation into the ancient cult more desperately than anything.

Eric knelt beside Carly and whispered, "As do I, great Pythia."

Godric moved to accompany them both and added, "And I have already committed myself to you, great Pythia."

"Then," the Pythia gestured toward the Magister, "the child of my child will begin the ritual."

The Magister tapped his walking stick three times and said, "We begin in the first garden, in the first soil cultivated with human hands, where the first child was born onto wheat straw, in the first house made of manured walls, where the first goats and cattle grazed outside. There the great mother opened the gates between the worlds."

Tapping his stick again four times, the Magister said, "Four worlds opened before her in four directions, and beings from all the worlds gathered before her."

Chanting in another language, the Pythia rose from her seat, stumbled forward, raised her arms, and called out. The air within the underground chamber began to resonate and vibrate. She switched to English and called out, "Beings of light, creatures of dark, creatures of water, beings of earth, open your realms to us so that these initiates can see the tree of the universe."

With those words, the room fractured apart, and the four vampires and one human stood within a crystalline tower that spiraled up and down, a massive tree, with branches extending into feathered tendrils in all directions. Carly could count nine spheres—nine points of existence that were clearly distinguishable. Four beings approached the initiates, three wielding weapons of different size and shape. One man, with long silver hair, who glowed, aura ablaze, approached the Pythia, who stood with her knife extended from her breast, its point toward him. With his own silver weapon, he slashed his hand and blood dripped onto the Pythia's knife, but then disappeared. Each of the creatures proceeded in turn, but not all resembled human beings.

A dense shadow tumbled toward the Pythia and began to spin, faster and faster, until it liquified, and flowed, a black rivulet onto the obsidian dagger. As the shadow retreated, a beautifully clothed woman strolled languidly forward with a shining blue trident, transformed into a centaur, and plunged the trident into her foreleg. Finally, from behind a fog, Friagabi, the woman Carly presumed was her ancestor, stood before the Pythia with a stone knife, and slashed at her own hand. Then, she walked up to Carly and encircled her in a consuming embrace.

With the elder valkyrie's touch, Carly felt her consciousness collapse into Friagabi's, and all, without explanation, was clear to her. The valkyries—the name given to them by the Norsemen who saw echoes of the boundaries between worlds in the northern lights—policed the boundaries of the worlds and ensured the conservation of energy within each realm. They ensured that life remained in each realm, that it didn't wither with the death of every creature. The fairies, in their fear of vampires, retreated from earth and sequestered themselves within their own world and sealed its borders. Their world began to fester and die, poisoned by the energies of death that remained untransformed. But some vampires sought to transform hybrids—the children of fairies among men—into vampires, thereby gaining access to day in the human realm and gaining entrance to the realm of light, the world of Faerie. If they did, the balance between light and dark would fail, and the greedy among creatures of darkness, the predators who created vampires among men, would consume all beings, beginning in their own world, and including the vampires on earth.

Friagabi released Carly, who collapsed to the floor. Grasping Eric's arm, Friagabi said, "You are right, vampire. Grandmother does like you. Preserve her while she holds fast to her human life and you shall win our favor."

Once Friagabi relinquished her iron hold on Eric, he knelt beside Carly, but the Pythia cautioned, "Do not touch her, Northman. The ritual is not complete."

The Magister tapped his cane twice more and said, "The Great Mother bound herself to the other realms, took their blood into her own, vowed to advance justice among her own kind, and vowed to serve the balance. Initiates share this blood bond and commit to these obligations. You will each kneel before the Pythia."

Eric jumped toward the Pythia and fell before her and said, "I commit to these obligations."

The Pythia plunged the obsidian dagger so far into his chest that his blood colored the bronze hilt and said, "Your heart binds you to the nine realms."

When the Pythia drew the dagger out, the wound on Eric's chest closed, and the blood on the dagger disappeared.

The ancient vampire repeated the process on Godric, who then stood and looked toward Carly. "Ancient," his voice wavering as he spoke, "will Carly receive the same wound?"

"Silence, vampire," the Pythia said as she stumbled toward Carly. "Valkyrie, look at me," she demanded.

Carly raised her eyes to the Pythia and moved her dress aside to expose her left breast and offer access to her heart.

"You truly are worthy, child," the Pythia said as she stabbed Carly in the chest. "Your heart binds you to the nine realms."

Eric rushed to Carly's side, growling at the vampire who held the ancient weapon. As the Pythia withdrew it, slowly, Eric watched as the blood flowed in a rivulet, disappearing into the black stone blade. Just as with the vampires, Carly's wound closed without even leaving a visible mark.

The true mark, however, the knowledge that her heart had seized up and her blood had gone stagnant around a weapon as old as human consciousness, was impressed upon her mind, and, Carly dared for a moment believe, her soul. Standing, Carly allowed her dress to fall back into its original position.

The Pythia said, "It is done," and returned to her chair.

Carly slackened into Eric's waiting arms while silence, as startling and profound as the waves of energy that shook the chamber before, fell among them and they stood in awe. Eric was the first to speak.

"So initiates to the mystery protect the fairies, because we cannot risk a fairy becoming vampire," he summarized.

"Always perceptive and thinking strategically, Viking," the Magister affirmed. "A vampire without a commitment to justice, who could day-walk, would pose a terrible threat to vampires, humans, and all other creatures."

Godric followed the logical conclusion of the Magister's statement. "Initiates to the mystery have seen the sun in the past?"

"On occasions that merited it, Godric." The Pythia's voice was low as she proceeded. "In the first days of Constantine's rule, a Roman vampire captured a fairy and bred her to his men. Two of the children survived. When they reached maturity, he sought to transform them, and I staked all three at noon."

"Who gave you the fairy blood?" Godric asked.

"Initially? The blood of the fairy realm—the blood that courses through you now that you are initiated-allowed me to rise during the day to stake him. But their mother offered more in return for a favor." The Pythia added, "She asked me to drain her and slaughter her younger children, since they were not welcome in her own realm."

"Why the hell not?" Carly spoke up, struggling to come to terms with this cosmic notion of justice that would not allow a woman to return to her family. "Why are we so interested in protecting creatures as selfish, cruel, and hateful as fairies? Murtagh raped a woman right there," she pointed into the corner of the chamber, where remnants of the iron bars were still visible. "Then he murdered her. Why do they deserve our mercy."

The Pythia closed her eyes. "They do not, child. None deserve mercy, but all deserve justice."

"And the universe requires balance if it will persist and if we are to survive within it," the Magister added. "Look at this world. Our oceans are becoming acidic. The air is contaminated. The boundaries between the sky and space are dissolving, allowing so much light in that humans burn like vampires. It is all out of balance, and our obligation is to do as much as we can to preserve what we have now. Perhaps humans of the next generation can heal the wounds they've inflicted in the last three hundred years."

Carly still bristled with the idea that fairies would abandon their own, that they would refuse entry to their children. "Why wouldn't they let her back in?"

"Whatever seed takes root in a fairy womb—human, fairy, demon, or shifter—reshapes the womb. A fairy who breeds with a human will never be able to breed with a fairy." With a faint gesture of dismissal, the Magister said, "She was no longer any use to them."

Still full of disbelief, Carly pressed further, "But her children? Why let them die too?"

"Part fairies can breed with full fairies, but they will always be defective, always contaminated," the Magister clarified.

"A fucking one drop rule, huh?" Carly's rage bubbled up as she thought of herself. "What about me? Why did the valkyries embrace me when I'm a mongrel?"

"The creatures of the earth are different, more welcoming, and they can transform any creature they choose." The Pythia spoke impatiently, "And you are worthy, Carly."

"If Friagabi, and the valkyries are creatures of the earth, and the fairies are children of light, then what were the other two?" Carly asked, adding quickly, "And you said there were nine realms, but only four creatures came to us. What about the other five?"

"The universe in which Earth lies is one realm, the roots of existence in another." Gesturing upward and expansively, the Pythia said, "That which all desire inhabits another and all strive to join themselves to it, and that which repulses all others occupies its opposite. The final realm refuses the mystery and protects only itself. Their children on earth are called demons, and they have remain objective among all supernatural interests. When they do otherwise, they are punished."

"Okay, I guess I understand the cosmology—it's not that different from neo-Platonism or Kabbalism, but what about the other two creatures," Carly reminded the Pythia. "One didn't even look like a creature at all."

"The creatures of darkness assemble in hives," the Pythia clarified. "That is what we saw, and that is the creature that animates vampires, how they communicate between makers and children, how they bond to other creatures."

"Our origins are truly in the shadows?" Godric asked, awestruck.

"Yes," the Pythia answered, "but they require a vessel to survive apart from the ritual. No one knows how they came into this realm, but they did, and they flourished, although they must remain in shadow here on earth. We flee the sun because they are within us."

"Amazing..." Carly whispered and then looked at Eric. "I never thought to look at your blood beneath a microscope."

"The blood is sacred," Godric cried out. "You shall do no such thing, Carly! I command it."

"Godric," the Magister's voice resonated calmly within the chamber, "scientists will do it, and it will do no harm. It might even do good."

Godric growled and sputtered, "Such a thought displeases me. It's profanation."

"You saw a truth, Godric," the Pythia intervened. "Most talk of the sacred and profane is simply an echo of these truths. The Authority's foolishness about Lilith is simply an echo, albeit a dangerous one, and one we need to contain before it gathers forces and commits to violence."

"Lilith," Carly whispered to Eric, who replied quietly, "I'll tell you the story someday, after all this is over."

With Carly's hand within his own, Eric returned to Godric's side and said, "So what now?"

"You stop Himmler and Edgington, who discovered Sophie-Ann's experiments and wish to continue them," the Magister said. With a smile, he added, "But first, you change your shirt, and we depart."

Godric nodded and approached the Pythia, saying, "As always, it is an honor to be in your presence."

"My presence, and those of all the initiates, past and present, will be with you always now, my child," the Pythia said. "The mystery allows us all to communicate. Do not fear if what you hear or see from any initiate in any realm. You will always see them within the crystalline spiral." As the Pythia stood, she said, "And in the moments of your greatest need, you will be helped, although you can never be healed from an injury the way you were tonight. If you meet the final death, you must embrace it and move forward to the next stage of your existence."

The Magister took the Pythia's arm and guided her toward a concealed tunnel at the back of the chamber. Eric gathered Carly up and carried her up the stairs. Although she was unhurt, Carly's mind swirled, considering and reconsidering all she'd learned during the ritual, all she now felt. Without any reasonable explanation for the change, Carly now felt like a different being than the one she was when she descended the ladder into the chthonic chamber. All three of them—Eric, Godric, and Carly-emerged into a small music room.

"Eric," Godric said, "Please go to the room where you last stayed. I have some shirts in your size. We will burn these."

"Yes, my king." Eric turned to Carly. "Please, rest for a few moments. You need to gather your strength for our next interview." Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered, "You are my stalwart, valkyrie."

Godric took Carly by the hand and they walked back to the library. Godric directed Carly toward a comfortable slipper chair in the corner and then brought a clean shirt out of a closet.

Marcus appeared at the door and said, "My king."

"Yes, Marcus." Godric pointed to Carly. "Please get Carly whatever nourishment and refreshment she requires."

Almost on cue, Carly's stomach growled. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"The sound was apparent even in the hallway, Carly," Godric said, somewhat paternalistically.

"Could I just get some cheese and crackers?" Carly asked.

"And to drink," Marcus added.

"Just water." Carly smiled at Marcus, who nodded and retreated to the door.

As he closed the doors, Marcus said, "Nakamura is waiting for you when you are ready."

"Thank you," Godric replied as he returned to his green velvet chair and took up his book again. "Have you ever seen this, Carly? It's called the _Secret Commonwealth_."

"Isn't it about fairies?" Carly wondered why Godric would read such a text in a semi-public place. "Do you think that's a good thing for Nakamura to see you reading?"

"Perhaps not," Godric smiled as he marked his page and returned the book to the shelves, "but I'm interested in it more for what it tells me about humans than what it says of fairies. It offers a number of insights about small communities that I find notable. Tell me about your friend Sookie."

A tide of nausea and fear went through Carly, and Eric swept into the room, half dressed with a look of panic on his face. Carly's mind tumbled. _Sookie...what if Himmler learned about Sookie?_

"I hadn't thought about her. Do you think she's at risk?"

"Who?" Eric asked, breathlessly. "Are you all right?"

"Sookie Stackhouse, Eric," Godric added. "We must protect her, and I fear that she will soon become a target, if she hasn't already."

"I'm supposed to see her Saturday," Carly offered, her attention distracted immediately by Marcus's return with a tray filled with cheese, crackers, fruit, sparkling and flat water and white wine.

"My apologies for any redundancy, Ms. Michael," Marcus said.

Carly's appetite crested and she sprinted forward to the sideboard where he deposited the food. "I think you must have psychic powers, Marcus."

"No," he replied. "My mother just advised that abundance was always a virtue in hospitality."

As Carly took a bite, she said, "Wise woman."

"Marcus," Godric moved across the room toward him. "Please make arrangements for an outing for us. We need to go to Bon Temps. Secure transportation and accommodation for us and for Carly. She will, however, need to arrive during the day as early as possible."

Nodding, Marcus responded, "Yes, my king."

"Give us ten minutes for Carly to gather some strength, and then show Nakamura in." Godric returned his attention to his present guests and said, "We speak no more of our concerns until Nakamura is dealt with."

"Disposed of?" Eric suggested.

"No," Godric paused and added, "I doubt disposal is our best option. I would prefer it if Carly could assist us in some remodeling."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N I've been working on this chapter for a while, because this time of year is always crazy and I've had to steal moments here and there. As you read the end, I think you'll feel the grief that weighs on us all. I own nothing having to do with True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries.

Chapter 12

As Carly nibbled at her post-initiation snack, the two vampires watched her, seemingly transfixed by her deliberate movements. At first, Carly found Godric's attention to her endearing, as she did Eric's. Eric always watched Carly eat with amusement and satisfaction, clearly enjoying the range of emotional responses she could have over the course of a good meal. Godric's attention, on the other hand, seemed to be more analytical, more scientific. She expected him to begin recording his observations in a journal or a tape recorder as he considered the female primate and her eating habits.

"I'm almost done, Godric," Carly said through a mouthful of cracker crumbs.

Still examining her intently, Godric said, "I see no reason to hurry you, Carly. The longer Nakamura waits, the longer he has to grow anxious over our intent."

"But," Carly choked out, "you seem so troubled by my eating." Still hungry, Carly grabbed another cluster of grapes and a stack of cheese and crackers."

"Do I trouble you as I watch you eat?" Godric asked. "I recollect so little of the sensations myself, I find them fascinating to watch you express them."

Eric chuckled, "Carly is accustomed to my watching her, but I think she wasn't expecting your gaze, Godric. I recall how piercing it can be." As he stretched backward on the sofa, Eric said, "I'm sure you'll grow accustomed to each other with more time. After all," his laugh—throaty and enthusiastic—forced him to pause, "we have eternity, it seems."

_Eternity..._Carly thought about the word, which resonated through her body. Friagabi said that eventually she would abandon her human life and take on a different kind of existence. _What does that even mean? Is that what life for Arianna is like?_ _But I can't talk about the mystery with Arianna—I'll have to try to communicate again with Friagabi_... Carly put down her crackers, took a sip of water, and said, "I think we need to get started with Nakamura."

"Yes," Godric agreed. "Carly, I regret you will have to assume a more submissive position. We need to leverage his assumption that a human is no threat to him." Godric returned to his wing-back chair, and Carly moved to sit with Eric.

Eric tossed a sofa cushion on the floor between his legs.

Looking down at the cushion, Carly sighed. "I'm going to have to take off my shoes. I can't sit down in this dress and keep these shoes on."

"Certainly, Carly." Eric pointed to a spot near the door and then suggested, "I can help you arrange your dress so that you're as comfortable as possible."

Once seated, Carly twisted and scooted until she was as modest as possible, which would certainly not be particularly modest at all. Eric reached down and moved the neck of her dress slightly so that the puncture marks were visible. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

After a few moments of silence, Marcus knocked on the door.

"Enter," Godric summoned.

"Your majesty," Marcus entered, bowed deeply, and said, "Nakamura."

A broad-shouldered, attractive man, who appeared to be about thirty-five in human years entered the library, bowed to Godric, and said, "Your majesty." Turning to Eric, he said, "Sheriff." After his greetings, he stood to his full height, and Carly was impressed by his military bearing and his confidence.

Godric indicated the chair that Carly had vacated in favor of floor and said, "I appreciate your prompt attention to my summons, Nakamura."

"Of course, your majesty." Nakamura's voice was steady and betrayed no signs of anxiety whatsoever. "I am at your disposal, as I said when I offered my services to you."

Godric leveled his gaze at Nakamura's eyes, and the two men stared at each other for what was an excruciating amount of time for Carly. In her discomfort, she began wondering if the vampires were aware of the way her pulse elevated. She closed her eyes, imagined the lapping of waves, and grass blowing in the wind, her dogs cavorting through it, images that usually calmed her. As her heart-rate returned to normal, Carly began tuning in to Nakamura's mind. Finally, Godric spoke again.

"I seek your insights about New Orleans and its history. You have been here for many years, yes?"

Nakamura nodded and added, "Since 1770, your majesty, on and off."

As Carly focused her attention, she saw and heard patterns that were starkly different from those of other vampires. Unlike the buzzing, or the static, or even the howling that she sensed from other vampires, Nakamura's mind pulsed, rising and falling like a fountain that filled a pitcher that once full shifted balance and poured back into its base. The rhythm of his mind was mesmerizing.

"Yes," Godric paused again, looking intently at Nakamura. "Human authorities sought my assistance in a recent matter, and I need your expertise."

Nakamura waited for Godric to add more detail before he spoke, and Carly was again impressed by his restraint and calm. This vampire, she thought, could make a fortune playing poker. Perhaps he had.

"Members of a prominent local family have gone missing recently, and local officials feared that a vampire might be involved," Godric crossed his legs and added, "although I believe they simply seek a scapegoat, since there are no obvious leads in the case."

"Which family?" Nakamura asked, indicating genuine interest, Carly believed.

"LeBlanc," Godric said quietly.

As Godric began the second syllable, Nakamura's mind froze, the even pulse turning into a chasm, a gap immediately filled with a panicked image of Marie-Claire's half-naked, dead body splayed out before Murtagh's self-impaled corpse. Nakamura betrayed his knowledge of the family in a way visible to Godric, because the king followed up his utterance quickly.

"How do you know of the ladder to the sub-basement, Nakamura?" The question offered no possibility of denial, and Carly felt the pulse return, accompanied by images of Nakamura's own torture at Sophie-Ann's hands, his abandonment to the sun in a New Orleans cemetery, and his rescue by a representative of the nascent Authority.

"Sophie-Ann," Nakamura began and then stopped suddenly.

Carly concentrated intently, trying to break through the pulsing, which was now a throbbing that shook her own mind, desperate to find something verbal, something that she could follow and turn over to Godric as evidence, or use as the foundation for "reprogramming" Nakamura in some way more favorable to Godric's position.

Finally, bits and pieces of speech became clear, but Carly couldn't make them out, couldn't understand. In frustration, she realized, _Japanese...he's thinking in Japanese_. _Maybe if he would look at me..._

Carly reached up to Eric and caressed his thigh, eliciting a faint growl of desire from him. Eric grasped her by the hair and drew her up onto his lap.

"Sheriff," Godric cautioned, "this is not the time to play with your pet."

"My apologies," Eric smirked and responded, "she is tempting, isn't she?" With a kiss, Eric connected with Carly and called out across their bond, _What do you need, my darling?_

As she returned the passionate kiss, Carly responded, _Eye contact. He needs to look at me._

When they broke apart, Carly rested her head on Eric's chest and looked toward Nakamura provocatively. Suddenly inspired, Carly turned to whisper in Eric's ear. "Samurai."

Eric chuckled and responded, "I will ask, my sweet."

"What?" Nakamura responded, his voice full of equal parts of curiosity and irritation.

"My pet enjoys warriors, Nakamura," Eric smiled at Godric, "doesn't she, my king?" After drawing his hand up her thigh to her thong, Eric sniffed his fingers and sighed.

Catching on to their nascent plan, Godric replied. "Yes, as I recall, she enjoyed comparing the sharpness of our swords." Godric's fangs popped out and he said, "Eric, I fear she has distracted us from our business, perhaps we should indulge in the diversion, if she can manage."

"Perhaps you should ask, Nakamura," Eric said, patting the sofa next to him.

His own fangs now exposed, Nakamura stood slowly and strolled to the sofa and sat down gently. He reached out and grasped Carly's chin.

Their eyes locked, and Carly said, "Nakamura, were you a samurai?"

Carly felt Nakamura resisting her influence. He was confused that a human could extract dominate his will so totally, but slowly, she recognized his mind opening up to her, the pulsing slowing to a faint hum that finally resolved into a spare series of Japanese words that Carly couldn't decode. A warm current circulated around the room, not quite a wind, but enough to make Carly aware she had complete control.

Finally, Nakamura responded, "No, I was a foot-soldier."

"Nakamura, we have questions for you. Please answer them in English for us," Carly said evenly and quietly.

"Yes," he responded, and Carly was aware that he struggled to free himself from her.

"Nakamura, Godric and Eric will ask you questions, and you will answer them with complete honesty, yes?" Carly needed the two vampires to do the interrogation while she maintained control over Nakamura, who battled her fiercely.

After Nakamura affirmed his compliance, Godric began his interrogation.

"Why did you bug my child's properties in Shreveport?" Godric asked.

"The Authority wants access to the palace." Nakamura responded flatly and without additional information.

"Why?" Godric asked.

Nakamura did not respond immediately, so Carly followed up with force, "Answer him, Nakamura."

"Many reasons, my king." Nakamura's body tensed, and Carly felt his consciousness rising back to the surface.

"Nakamura, you will answer all Godric's questions, because your very existence depends upon it. You have absolute loyalty to your king and to no other. All others deceive you, even if they did save you from Sophie-Ann's brutality."

Nakamura's expression shifted slightly. "They have all deceived me?"

"Yes," Carly replied. "Godric and Eric are the only two vampires you can depend on. You must tell them all you know and be entirely forthright. Your very existence depends on it."

"Yes, it depends on it." Nakamura relaxed.

"Tell us your story, Nakamura," Godric prompted. "Carly knows more than we do, and we must know all about your experience here in New Orleans if we are to protect you."

Nakamura began with his turning. "I fought in the Shimabara Uprising as a soldier of the Shogun. After one skirmish, I was disgusted by what I had done—I had set fire to a home after sealing the doors, knowing there were women and children inside. I felt I was a monster and fled into the forest to kill myself. I took my sword and slashed my belly. My maker saw me and felt an attraction to me. I awoke vampire with my maker, Peter van Dyck, who accompanied Dutch traders in Japan. He had been disgusted by the violence."

"I remember that sensation well," Godric commiserated. "Continue, Nakamura."

"We fled Japan and traveled throughout the world. In 1770, we arrived in New Orleans and presented ourselves to Sophie-Ann, who had come with the French." Nakamura paused for a few moments. When he continued, Carly could sense the grief in his voice. "My maker met his true death at Sophie-Ann's hand."

"Why?"

"My maker had a..." Nakamura struggled to break eye contact with Carly.

"Nakamura," she reminded, "you must answer all Godric's questions honestly." An idea occurred to her as she was talking, and she said, "Even if it means that you must ignore a command from your maker."

"A talisman." Nakamura breathed in and exhaled. "My maker had a talisman that attracted fairies and immobilized them."

"Did he give it to Sophie-Ann?" Godric asked.

"She took it," Nakamura answered, "but he refused to disclose how to use it, so she killed him in anger."

"And then tortured you for it," Carly supplied.

"Yes," Nakamura whispered. "Until I broke."

Godric continued, "Did you participate in the summoning?"

"Yes, we lured a male fairy and captured him." Nakamura stopped again, prompting Godric to follow up with another question.

"Why did Sophie-Ann want a fairy?"

"She wished to day-walk, but she did not want the drunkenness that came with consuming a fairy." Nakamura hesitated again and added, "She believed she could dilute their blood into a more manageable dose, and then she could sell pets to interested vampires who wished to dominate the human world."

Eric queried, "Dilute?"

"She wished to breed them in captivity, as one would breed dogs." Nakamura tried to lift his hands, but failed to move.

In the silence that followed, Carly formulated her own questions. "Did you capture Murtagh?"

"I assisted," Nakamura's voice wavered, "and when he slaughtered the hybrid and killed himself, she tortured me in her frustration."

Godric continued, changing subjects. "How did you come to work with the Authority?"

"One of Salome's children found me after Andre left me for dead in the cemetery."

Visibly disgusted, Godric groaned slightly and ordered, "Explain."

"I told Yeva about the queen's plans, and Salome and the Guardian offered me their protection. The Guardian commanded Sophie-Ann to conceal the talisman within the palace."

Carly could see Eric shaking his head in her peripheral vision, and he asked, "Why didn't they just take it?"

"They concealed the talisman from the other chancellors." Nakamura's response seemed too simple to Carly.

"Why did they not use the talisman again? They knew the charm." Carly asked slowly.

"Salome's sorceress bewitched Andre and Sophie-Ann to forget the charm, so that the talisman would be useless to them." Nakamura added, "I was their thrall, so Sophie-Ann left me alone."

"Do you know where the talisman is now?" Carly asked.

"No."

"What do you do for the Authority today?" Godric seemed dissatisfied with the interview. "Why did you do the surveillance on my child?"

"I am their spy." Nakamura said bluntly and added, "I could not gain access to the palace during the day. My efforts had been repulsed, but I believed Godric would share whatever he learned with his child."

Carly grasped Eric's hand to suggest she was nearing exhaustion. Speaking slowly and deliberately, Carly said, "No matter the relationship you have had with any vampire in the past, Godric is now your sovereign, and you owe him complete fealty and honesty. You will do whatever he asks, provide him with all the information he needs, and report nothing that happened here tonight." Before she lost control, Carly added, "You will recite the charm now."

Nakamura stomped his right foot three times, his left foot twice, clapped his hands in rhythm, and then said, "Creature of light, smell the honey of the oldest bees, come to feed on the rain of the angelic realm."

A bright light flashed within the library, and a fairy—a woman with long red hair-appeared in the center of the room, disoriented, frightened, and writhing in pain.

Nakamura struggled against Carly's hold, but she held fast to her control of the vampire. Godric and Eric stared at the woman for a moment, before Godric moved toward her slowly.

"Child," Godric said in a soothing voice. "We did not mean to trap you. We intend you no harm."

"How?" The woman began to gather strength, and then said, "You are vampires! How? How could you mean no harm?"

"To be honest, child," Godric whispered, "I do not know. But I feel no compulsion to harm you. Eric, do you?"

"None, my king," Eric replied. "But I fear that Carly grows tired and may lose control of Nakamura."

"Please," Carly whined, "get her out of here."

"Are you strong enough, child?" Godric asked the fairy.

"No," she finally stood. "Give me a moment more."

Eric held tight to Carly's hand, and then finally said, "Godric, give me silver so that I can restrain Nakamura."

Godric retrieved a velvet bag out of his desk drawer and tossed it to Eric, who pulled out a leather handle that was attached to a silver chain. Wrapping the chain around Nakamura, Eric said, "Carly, you can release him now, but you need to get away from him. Attend to the fairy."

Carly spoke, "Remember, you will do as Godric says, share all information with him, and never disclose your relationship with him to anyone."

"Yes," Nakamura winced in pain.

Carly released Nakamura from her influence, and a warm wind rushed through the room. Eric flipped Nakamura face down onto the sofa so that he couldn't see anything that unfolded around him.

The fairy turned to Carly, who had slipped down onto the floor, and asked, "What are you?"

Struggling to stand, Carly approached the fairy and reached out to her, "Someone who will protect you."

The fairy remained immobile until Carly touched her hand and a wave of energy surged into Carly's body. All the sorrow, pain, death, and sickness that weighed the fairy down disappeared as Carly began to glow. Carly reached to cup the fairy's face in her palm and sent the word "valkyrie" into her mind.

"But..." the fairy sputtered. "Your kind abandoned us."

"Your people sealed yourself away," Carly smiled. "Can you tell us where the talisman is that summoned you?"

The fairy looked down to the floor, and Carly understood immediately what her gesture meant.

Just as Carly intended to ask another question of the young fairy, Marcus burst through the doors and lunged toward the her. Without hesitation, the fairy popped away with a faint smile for Carly. As Marcus stood, he looked at his king and asked, "Your majesty, what happened?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, Marcus." Godric dismissed the vampire, who looked around aimlessly, periodically sniffing the air as he moved across the room. As he held the door handle, he leaned inward and breathed deeply, staring directly at Carly. His eyes grew hungry, and Carly said with force, "Nothing is here, Marcus."

"Yes," he replied, and drew the doors closed.

Carly moved back to the sofa and placed her arm gently on Eric's shoulder. "You can let him up, Eric."

Nakamura sputtered and cursed in Japanese as he struggled against his silver bonds, and then finally said, "Why are you detaining me, Viking! And why do you dare address me, human? My king, I have done nothing wrong!"

The room seemed to grow smaller again, as if Nakamura's eyes were a focal point and everything curved to grow near them. "Nakamura," Carly addressed him with new-found vitality and strength, and he couldn't resist her.

"Hai."

"Speak English to us, Nakamura, and tell us why the Authority wants the talisman now." Carly reached to touch his face, hoping that the contact might yield additional insight into his mind. Carly saw a beautiful, dark-haired woman, impatiently pacing across a temple-like enclosure, but she remained silent.

"I do not know." Nakamura responded slowly and deliberately, but soon added, "Salome asked me to find it. The others do not know she seeks it."

Godric found Nakamura's claims unconvincing. "How can you not know what Salome wants with it if you do know that she conceals her desire?"

Struggling to break through the logic of Godric's question, Nakamura said, "She tells me this."

"Do you know about the missing people in New Orleans?" Godric returned, finally, to his original topic. "What can you tell me of the LeBlanc family?"

"I know nothing of their disappearances, but I know that they are part fairy, just as the queen's favorite was, although she lacked the abilities of their..." Nakamura trailed off before suggesting, "The queen planned to capture the rest of the family and breed them with the LeBlancs, but she met her true death before that was achieved."

"How do you know this?" If Nakamura's story were entirely true, Carly doubted he had direct access to the queen's court.

Nakamura confirmed her suspicions, reporting, "Andre." Nakamura paused and wavered slightly, apparently tiring under the force of Carly's influence. "Andre fed me information for the Authority in return for women from other states...who would not be missed. He had similar bargains with other vampires."

"Who?" Carly's voice echoed with satisfaction that Andre met his death through her blood. "Who else did he feed information to?"

"Mississippi..." Nakamura collapsed backward into Eric, and he begged, "please...please. It hurts so much."

"Carly," Eric spoke gently, "I think you can release him."

With one final breath, Carly said, "Nakamura, you will answer every question Godric or Eric put to you on any occasion, do you understand?"

"Yes," Nakamura began to weep. "Yes, I am the king's servant...I serve no other."

Releasing her hold upon Nakamura, Carly said, "That should be enough."

"Please," Nakamura begged, "please remove the silver."

Eric pulled the silver chain away from Nakamura, and the burnt skin from his neck peeled away with it. "I will get you a donor, Nakamura."

"Thank you," Nakamura responded, looking plaintively into Eric's eyes. "I am hungry."

Carly sank back into the sofa and spread her arms out, luxuriating in the power she harvested from the fairy. She felt as if every hair were growing, as if every blood cell sang loudly with the voice of every powerful soprano who had ever embodied Brunhilda, as if she truly were a valkyrie of Wagnerian power and significance.

Nakamura tried to meet her gaze, but flinched every time their eyes intersected, overwhelmingly fearful of her. His expression reflected confusion. Carly presumed that he wondered why a human, even one as attractive as she, one whom he believed had offered herself to him just moments before, would cause him such pain.

After a few minutes sitting in silence, Eric returned, a voluptuous dark-haired, olive skinned woman in tow.

Carly stood and walked to stand beside Godric, making room for the newcomer, who sat gracefully beside Nakamura.

"Hello, sir." She smiled faintly. "Please tell me how you like to feed."

Nakamura grasped her right shoulder and rotated her slightly, so that he had access to her neck.

Carly watched as the woman took a deep breath, released it, and relaxed, as Nakamura plunged his fangs into her neck. He drank deeply for a few moments, drawing on the wound and swallowing loudly. Finally, Godric said, "We do not harm donors in my palace, Nakamura."

After one more swallow of blood, Nakamura relented, pulling away from the donor, whereupon, he said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." The donor pulled a compress from her pocket and pressed it to her neck. Acknowledging Godric, she said, "Your majesty."

Slowly, the young woman walked out the door, without ever giving her name.

Carly began to question Godric, but pulled back, resuming her position as Eric's subordinate. If the donor remained nameless, Nakamura would likely expect her to remain so as well, even if he appeared visibly frightened of her.

Godric renewed his questioning. "Nakamura, where did the Queen plan to hold the LeBlancs?"

"Here," Nakamura gestured with a circular motion. "She planned to glamour them so that they seemed to consent. She wanted the families placated and unwilling to interfere."

Eric chimed in, "Sophie-Ann never held captives while I was Sheriff, your majesty."

"I am still exploring the palace, Eric," Godric responded, "and I have found numerous cells and dungeons, some of which have been used recently. I believe Sophie-Ann concealed her operations well." Godric straightened slightly and told his progeny, "The young starlet you saw in her sun-room was not the queen who ruled house."

Nodding, Eric deferred to Godric's authority as king and palace resident.

"Nakamura," the traumatized vampire returned his gaze to the questioning king, "how do you know that Andre disclosed the information about the Fae to Mississippi?"

"Andre and Russell traded captive humans, and I assisted in the transport of one set at the border." Nakamura joined his hands together and leaned forward onto his elbows. "I found it all so repulsive."

"Livestock usually are repulsive," Godric suggested.

"And that is how they were treated." Continuing, Nakamura added, "but Andre said he would trade a greater prize to Russell—a breeding pair of hybrids guaranteed to produce a creature whose blood would allow him to daywalk—for help seizing Arkansas for himself."

"Guaranteed?" Eric chuckled. "Nothing about reproduction is guaranteed, as I recall."

Carly mused over the question while the others continued to talk. How could Andre provide such a guarantee? First, Carly doubted that the vampire remembered any of the details of human reproduction, unless they'd also involved a doctor. But if a doctor was involved, why would they need a pair, anyway? All they would really need to do would be to have a supply of semen and a woman. But a guarantee...

Suddenly, the solution popped into her mind fully formed, but she couldn't name it, couldn't even articulate the word. Instead, she relied on Eric's knowledge of Wagner.

"Siegmund and Sieglinde..." Carly whispered.

Godric and Eric snapped their attention to her and stared for a moment. At first, they looked at her without comprehension, as if she'd simply stumbled across names and given voice to them, but as they recognized what she meant, Godric stood and walked to his desk to examine his records.

"No," Godric said, when he examined the report from the New Orleans police. "Not from the LeBlancs."

Nakamura remained silent, befuddled by their exchange and Godric's shifted attention.

Eric followed up more urgently with Nakamura. "Do you know where he was going to find this breeding pair?"

"Andre said that he would have to drive north to retrieve them, and that he had to ensure the queen knew nothing of it." Nakamura shrugged, adding, "That is all I know, your majesty." He paused. "In truth."

"I believe you, Nakamura." Godric sat heavily in his seat and remained silent as Carly waited for his response to the problem.

All three of them were now bound to protect Sookie and her family, so Carly wondered why he was waiting. _Get rid of Nakamura so we can get to Bon Temps in time! We have to make sure Sookie and Jason are safe!_

"One more question, Nakamura."

"Yes, your majesty. Anything."

"Do you know Himmler?" Godric's gaze seemed made of lightening; it was so sharp and hot. "Was he in New Orleans?"

"He was here, your majesty." Nakamura lowered his eyes with apparent regret. "After Sophie-Ann's demise, he arrived, and stayed in the nest that Philips occupies with Margareta Nagy."

"Then I will have to summon them for questioning as well, Nakamura." Godric stood and approached Nakamura, who stood to attention so quickly Carly couldn't follow the motion. "You will go to their nest and relay my summons. You will provide them with no further information about why they are wanted."

"_Hai_," Nakamura nodded. "Your majesty, I am your servant."

"Yes, and we will discuss the Authority and their intentions after we have retrieved the LeBlancs." Godric put his arm on the younger vampire's shoulder. "Nakamura, you will be treated with honor in this house. Have no fear." Turning to look at Carly, Godric added, "Of any of us. My sheriff and his bonded shall do you no harm. You may go."

"Thank you," Nakamura said as he departed the room.

As Nakamura departed, Marcus entered the room, "Your majesty?"

"Marcus," Godric addressed his assistant, "could you ready the mobile chambers and summon its driver." Nodding toward Carly, "She will be joining us, so we must be ready to meet her needs as well."

"Of course," Marcus turned to Carly. "Ms. Michaels, do you have any food intolerances?"

"No," Carly smiled, "I'll eat anything and everything." Looking down at her dress, Carly laughed, and added, "But I might need some more sensible clothing."

"My king," Marcus returned his attention to his monarch, "for how many days should I prepare?"

"Five," Godric responded. "I feel we shall resolve this in five, if my instincts are correct." As Marcus began to exit, Godric added, "But please ask the police to send you the addresses of all properties owned by Andre or by known human fronts and sold in Renard Parish since Sophie-Ann's demise."

"Yes, your majesty."

The three sat in silence, Eric lackadaisically stroking the back of Carly's neck, Godric standing inert, deep in thought. As the silence dragged on, Carly could only think of Sookie and her brother and the danger they faced. First, they knew near to nothing about vampires, so they wouldn't even know how to defend themselves, even in the simplest ways. She should get moving, she thought, and call Sookie to warn her, to tell her not to let anyone into the house, to stay inside until they got there.

Finally breaking the silence, Godric said, "Carly, you must call Sookie Stackhouse and tell her that you will call upon her tomorrow."

"Why tomorrow?" Carly knew her voice sounded pleading. "Why can't we just tell her to hide tonight?"

She looked up at Eric and saw a faint smile on his face. "I am confident that Himmler is still in Shreveport."

"How?" Carly stood and stared alternately at Eric and Godric. "Did you let him stay?"

"I told him that he was allowed in town provisionally, but only under the supervision of a nest that I trust. Thalia monitors him." Eric finally smiled genuinely and added, "She has been instructed that he should be released only when I notify her."

"We have time," Godric continued, "to get oriented in Bon Temps and begin our search of the area. If Andre promised Russell a 'guarantee,' they would have likely have quarters where humans could be kept for at least a month, if not six weeks."

As Carly realized what Godric meant, she felt ill and enraged. "All of them, Godric. I want to kill all of them." Her rage kindled a faint red glow above her heart that soon spread to her shoulders. "I just want to get my hands on them and rip them apart."

"Carly," Eric stood, "calm down. Something's happening to you."

Turning to face him, Carly said, "How should I calm down! How can I calm down until they face justice for what they've done—for what they plan to do?"

"Remember the fairy we summoned, Carly," Eric reasoned with her. "You took something from her, and I think it's affecting you. You could harm yourself."

"Or us," Godric added.

As the red glow spread to her hands, Carly raised them, turned the palms, and said, "This is different. There's so much rage..."

"You need to let go of it, Carly," Eric whispered to her, "please."

As Carly sank down to the floor, a scene superimposed itself over Godric's library, as if she were in two places simultaneously—two cellophane worlds overlaid and pulsing with blood. In the other world, she saw silver blades flashing and felt them biting her flesh. Bursts of red light were followed by plumes of blood, gore splattering everywhere from bodies that moved too quickly for her to focus on. The rage fueled the destruction around her, but then she felt another emotion, a sorrow deep, vivid, and mortifying, the sorrow of parents as they watched their children slaughtered in front of them, the grief of husbands mourning their wives, and brothers mourning brothers by swearing vengeance everlasting. The grief stoppered death, which swelled forth from the tableau, and engulfed her.

Godric and Eric watched Carly as she convulsed before them, first glowing red until a blue-hot light encircled her. For a full minute she radiated, as if she immolated in the center of a gas flame. Eric reached out for her, but the heat was intolerable, so he backed away. The two vampires stood dumbstruck and impotent, until they watched the air in the room grow solid and faceted, and the transparent structure that assembled itself around her around her drew the light from her body with a blinding explosion. Then there was silence, and Carly lay still—her limbs and chest stiff and unmoving.

Eric threw himself on her and cradled her body, bloody tears dripping from his eyes. "Carly, wake up, please! They promised me..."

Godric advanced and grasped Eric's shoulder, unsure how to comfort his awestruck progeny.

Sitting violently, Carly's eyes popped open, and she inhaled sharply. Her complexion returned to normal. Her eyes attentive, Carly kissed Eric's tears away and held his cheek. "I'm okay," she said. Shifting her attention to Godric, Carly said, "When do we leave for Bon Temps?"


	13. Chapter 13

A/N Hope you enjoy this trip to Merlotte's. I'm just playing with Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris's toys. No copyright infringement is intended. Merry Christmas everybody!

Chapter 13

Dark shutters descended between panes of glass, obscuring what little Carly could see of the Louisiana countryside as Godric's royal Winnebago drove along I-20 toward Bon Temps in the early hours of the morning. Neither Eric nor Godric needed to retire into their light-tight compartments, so the three passengers spent a few minutes in conversation.

"Godric," Carly asked, "I still am amazed you decided to get a Winnebago. Why did you get something so," Carly struggled to put her reaction into words, "complicated."

"And human," Eric added with a faint whisper of sarcasm in his voice.

Straightening almost imperceptibly, Godric said, "A king needs familiarity with his territory, and I wished to have a mode of transport that would remain incognito."

Eric smiled broadly before he kissed Carly's ear as she leaned against him. "Only my dear maker would believe a monstrous white recreational vehicle towing a car would be incognito."

"Eric." Godric's voice reflected anger and a little hurt. He clearly felt insulted. "Would you expect the king of Louisiana to travel in such a manner?"

"Certainly not," Eric replied, suitably chastened. "And neither would your enemies, clearly. I should have recognized your wisdom."

"Yevgeny will park us at the KOA in Hastings, and Carly may use the vehicle to drive into Bon Temps." Godric nodded toward the driver's compartment where the enormous, Russian speaking were-bear sat constricted in the driver's seat. "Yevgeny will rest as well, but he will be able to respond adequately to any potential threat."

"If there are any problems, just have him call me, and I can deal with them," Carly said before stretching and yawning. "I may have to take a nap too."

"Yevgeny will need the large bed in the rear of the vehicle," Godric stood and walked carefully to the back of the RV. He tapped a panel above the king-sized bed that revealed a set of buttons. "Are you ready to go to our rest, Eric?"

After placing a kiss on Carly's lips and saying, "Until tonight," Eric joined Godric in the rear.

The king pressed a button that released a door at the foot of the king-sized bed. "The RV can accommodate six vampires in total, but this chamber is certainly the most comfortable, although it does require a little bit of a," Godric paused, "squirm."

Eric and Godric fell to the floor, as if they were about to do push-ups, and crawled into the space beneath the bed. Without any externally visible mechanism, the door shut behind them. Carly heard them speaking in Swedish, and she knew from experience that she couldn't access Eric's thoughts when he was thinking in his native tongue, so she couldn't satisfy her curiosity about their pillow talk.

With Eric and Godric abed, Carly stretched out on the leather sofa and pulled up a soft throw blanket and fell fast asleep.

She found herself in a green meadow full of tall dew-spotted grasses and flowers poised beside a stand of tall trees. Aspens? Were they aspens with their white bark, or another kind of tree? She approached them, reaching out to touch them, but they recoiled against her. Extending her tentative hand again toward another tree, she watched the same result, as the tree shifted away from her in every direction. Finally, she knelt to the ground, reasoning that the root of the tree couldn't move, only to be shoved away by a tower of earth that rose up between her and the tree.

"So you don't like me very much, do you?" Carly said.

"No..." a voice rumbled through her, a deep sonorous voice that seemed to carry its message in the vibration of the air against her skin. "We live. We are indebted to you, but have nothing for you."

"Fair enough."

Carly walked back into the center of the meadow and turned in a circle, but saw no one nearby. Overcome with sleepiness, Carly felt petulant and slightly imposed upon.

Speaking to the empty space, "You know, I haven't touched a body recently. And this isn't anything like the horror show that I saw today in Godric's office."

With the sound of crystal glasses tinkling together, Carly became aware of a faint change in pressure, as if the air around her grew denser and heavier, until she realized that walls grew up around her, enclosing her in a hexagon. As she stood up, panicked at being enclosed and hoping to retreat back to the tree line, crystals extended upward, closing in a roof around her.

Reaching up to the ceiling that admitted light but obscured the clarity of her view, Carly tapped her fingernail and heard the same ping she had a moment before. "Crystal."

Carly crossed her arms and said, "So I should be expecting some visitation, right?"

A crisply accented baritone voice breathed into her ear, "Quite right, my dear."

Startled, Carly plastered herself against the far wall, raising her arms in front of you. "Okay, who the hell are you?"

The fairy who attended her initiation, the tall, silver-haired man stood before her, his own hands before him with his palms toward her.

"I mean you no harm, Carly," he said sweetly. "I just wanted a moment with you alone, away from the vampires, because I have something to say to you and no one else."

"Okay," Carly responded, but she grew suspicious immediately. "Why? Why don't you want them to know this?"

With a faint smile, he said, "I did not say that." He sank to the ground in a graceful motion to sit with his legs crossed, and he gestured for Carly to follow. "There, isn't that more comfortable?"

The two sat much closer than Carly wished to, as she realized that the bottom of her cage was narrower than it was at its midpoint halfway up the wall.

"I guess."

"I can see from your expression," he said holding his hand over his heart in a gesture that suggested contrition, "that you don't have a very good opinion of my kind."

"No," Carly responded quickly, almost before he said _kind._ "Murtagh didn't make a good impression, raping and slaughtering a woman in front of me and saying I was there for my own good."

Closing his eyes and drawing his chin to his chest, the man said, "Murtagh was a warrior, not a diplomat, Carly."

"And I suppose you are a diplomat?" Carly realized she had no idea who this man was, although she knew she was at his mercy, unless someone could awaken her from her dreamtime captivity.

"A prince, actually," he inclined his head while maintaining eye contact with her. "I am Prince Niall Brigant of the Sky Fae."

"So you serve the king of the fairies?"

With a grimace, Niall replied, "Kings rule a unified people, and the Fae have lacked unity for some time, as I assume you saw when you met my subject."

The memory of the bloodshed and carnage that enveloped her earlier in Godric's office caused her to shiver. "Yes, I saw it."

"We have had many battles, so I do not know which one you saw, just that your ancestors directed me to you."

Carly began to feel the temperature rising within their crystalline igloo. "It's getting hot in here. Will this take long?"

Niall laughed merrily, "No, but I needed to conceal you from other fairies, since your-" he struggled to find a word and finally arrived at one with gusto- "ah, digestion," he emphasized, "would worry them."

"Is that what happened in Godric's office?" Carly remembered Eric's tears, and the way that he shook as he held her, and then seemed embarrassed on the drive toward Bon Temps. "I consumed fairy death energy?"

"Yes," he smiled again, "only a sliver of it—just what clung to my subject from the battle—but it was enough to bring this whole meadow and forest back to life. Our magic has maintained the illusion, so that we do not sorrow overmuch, but it is nice for genuine life to have returned to an area destroyed by war."

Carly felt short of breath, so she said, "Well, you're welcome, but I'm getting really uncomfortable. Can I go home?"

"Soon," Niall replied, "but I have a gift for you—I was going to ask Adele to give it to you-"

"Stackhouse?" Carly recognized Sookie's grandmother's name. "You know her?"

"Not directly, my dear, but I was aware you were to visit, so I planned to have an agent deliver this," he pulled a star-shaped gold charm from thin air. "For you, my dear."

Carly reached for the gift, but then asked, "Will this hurt Eric or Godric?"

"No," Niall laughed lightly, "so loyal, aren't you?"

As she wiped sweat from her brow, Carly said, "I try."

"Yes, well, you clearly need to leave, so let me just say that if you touch this when you transform our energy, it will come directly to us, and you will not suffer so greatly." Niall took her hand in his and placed the charm within it. "I would wager your vampire will resent your wearing it around your neck, so perhaps a bracelet would be in order."

Carly traced the outline of the charm and said, breathlessly, "Should I expect anything else? Any surprises?"

"Perhaps." Niall stood, just as gracefully as he'd descended, while the structure around them slowly disassembled itself. "You are an unprecedented creature, Carly. Exposure to our energies and contact without our kind may trigger some changes. Fae abilities, for example, grow stronger when we touch one another."

Watching the crystal structure slowly dissolve, Carly thought of a question. "If two part fairies had a baby, what would need to happen for it to be a real fairy?"

"You are wise, child," Niall grasped her hand. "Mother and father could not separate during the pregnancy."

Rough hands shook her shoulders, and Carly awoke, hearing, "Ms. Michael," a basso profundo voice said in a Russian accent.

"Yes," she stuttered, "Yevgeny, I'm awake."

"Good." Yevgeny held out a key ring. "For you. Key to," Yevgeny gestured toward the interior of the RV, "and car behind." The colossal were-bear walked to the door, turning and saying, "You change, I get car."

Realizing that she'd shifted out of her flimsy red dress, exposing her breasts to Yevgeny's view, Carly blushed a deep scarlet. She retrieved jeans, a blouse, and a cardigan from her luggage and changed clothes. After her morning ablutions, completed in the microscopic toilet room, Carly grabbed her purse and exited the RV.

"Car off," Yevgeny said haltingly, nodding to her in greeting before saying, "I sleep now."

As briskly as he'd awakened her, the mountain of a man, returned to the RV and locked the door behind him.

From the exterior, the RV looked much like every other vehicle in the KOA. Hoses and covered wires connected it to utilities, water, and sewage. The windows, tightly shuttered, looked merely tinted and reflective. Carly stretched, checked her cellphone for the time, and realized that Sookie might be at work, since it was already noon.

_Yevgeny must have let me sleep, _Carly thought. _It couldn't have taken so long to get here and get set up. _Before she forgot, Carly attached Niall's charm to her key ring, planning to keep it in her pocket or hand for the duration of her visit to Bon Temps. She also noted the slip number, since she wasn't certain how they were registered.

Carly walked to the manager's office at the front of the RV park, taking the opportunity to stretch out more fully and hoping that she could procure a cup of coffee from someone. Yevgeny's hasty awakening kept her from breakfast or caffeine.

As she neared the door to the office, Carly smelled the sweet perfume of fresh coffee.

Bells rang loudly as Carly crossed the threshold and was greeted heartily, "Hello there!"

"Morning," Carly said tentatively, "or afternoon." Taking in the room, equipped with a coffee maker, a small refrigerator, donuts, and toiletries, Carly noted the tidily dressed, yet still outdoorsy, woman who sat on the corner stool.

"You must be Carly," the woman said with enthusiasm. "I'm pleased as punch to meet you. Your friend there doesn't speak much English, now does he?"

"No," Carly smiled before dipping into the woman's mind to get a sense of the story. At the moment, Carly was annoyed no one had given her more information about their cover story before.

_Pretty girl, wasn't expecting one so pretty for something like an anthropologist—more like Indiana Jones, I guess...no, Evelyn, that's archeology. She don't look strong enough to dig up a bone, let alone what she'd do with it. I guess them other two will be sleeping all day...note said they had bad jet lag. That monster must be hauling all the equipment. Wonder what all these Europeans are doing round here, why any of 'em would care about our Indians? _

"But Yevgeny knows how all the machines work." Carly added quickly, "And my colleagues speak Russian too, so I just take the pictures."

Evelyn laughed loudly and said, "Man looks like he could haul a tractor with one hand! I swear I never seen a man as big as a bear before."

_If only you knew, Evelyn._ "They grow 'em big where he's from," Carly suggested.

"Well, what can I get you, dear?" Evelyn moved off the stool toward her concessions. "You need some coffee?"

Evelyn could have just offered a starving woman food, Carly was so joyful. "Yes, please!" She looked over the rest of the counter and also asked for a donut and a banana. "I also need a map if you have one."

"Sure, hon'." Evelyn poured Carly a cup of coffee and asked, "How you like it?"

"Black is fine, unless you have milk." Carly found herself reaching for the cup, just wanting to consume at least one cup as quickly as possible.

"You can grab the milk out of the fridge," Evelyn tilted her chin toward the refrigerator that stood behind Carly. "Now watch which one you get. The milk is a glass bottle."

Carly opened the refrigerator where she saw a glass milk bottle alongside half a dozen paper milk cartons that looked dirty around the edges.

"The other ones are bait," Evelyn explained. "Don't want you getting' a muddy surprise in your coffee. Few folks have over the years. Why I switched."

"Good thing." Carly topped up the cup with milk and took it eagerly. "Hmm. Thank you!"

"Coffee and donuts are on us, hon." Evelyn gestured to a chair crammed up against a wall. "If you want to move that stack, put it on the floor, then you can sit and talk awhile."

"Thanks." Carly feared Evelyn would want more information about what they were doing with "their Indians," but Carly had no idea. She planned to stick with the "cataloging artifacts" angle.

"So y'all gonna be digging in the woods?" Evelyn asked eagerly.

"I'll just be taking pictures and doing measurements," Carly responded, falling back on her job description in Sweden. "I'm not really an expert with this kind of thing, but I'm good with site recording."

"Well, watch out for the snakes and the 'gators," Evelyn cautioned. "And keep an ear out for hunters too. Y'all got orange jackets?"

"No." Carly could see the wisdom of the suggestion. "I'll suggest it to my colleagues. They're pretty tired right now."

"Your bear said so," Evelyn laughed and Carly couldn't help but laugh along at the woman's accuracy. "Although it was more like, 'Men sleep til night.'" Evelyn gave a caricature of Yevgeny's accent that irritated Carly slightly, since she knew that Godric wouldn't put faith in anyone nearly as simple as the representation suggested.

"Yes, they'll be out at the site at first light." Carly smiled, hoping to end the conversation before she was cornered into more details.

Suddenly, Evelyn's affect changed, and she appraised Carly again. "You all sleeping in there?"

"Yes," Carly affirmed. "We're a team, and it's a short survey. It doesn't make sense to do more."

"Well, if you need some space from those men," Evelyn bored into her, "or they get fresh, we got some little cabins at the back."

Carly took a deep breath and realized that Evelyn feared for Carly's virtue—or her safety. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm-" the lack of a word plagued her again, "attached to Eric."

"Dr. Ulfric?" Evelyn scrambled back over to her desk. "I forgot to give this to you. I'm sorry—there were instructions in the note to give it to you when you came in lookin' for coffee."

Evelyn presented her with an envelope inscribed with her name in Eric's familiar script. "Thank you, Evelyn."

The woman's face fell slightly. "You're welcome." After a moment's pause, she said, "I don't remember introducing myself."

Carly realized she'd messed up, and she desperately sought help on the walls of the office. Over the stool, Carly saw a AAA plaque recommending the KOA, managed by Evelyn and Leland Edwards. "I'm sorry if I got it wrong," Carly pointed to the plaque. "I just presumed. I'm sorry. You had me at a disadvantage, knowing my name." Carly smiled as broadly as she could, and the older woman softened.

With a laugh, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't get so nervous-like. I guess y'all are just a little different than the folks we usually get coming through." With a hearty laugh, she said, "For one, you're about forty years younger!"

The two women shared another cup of coffee, and Carly thanked her profusely for the refreshment and the local map that featured enlarged roadside "attractions," notably Merlotte's.

Hoping to take advantage of their reputation and find out how to get most directly to Bon Temps from the KOA, Carly asked. "You know, I'm going to be exploring around a little today. I'd really love to get some gumbo. Is there anywhere good around here?"

"Oh yes, Merlotte's is best," Evelyn smiled before her face fell again, "my husband used to like it until he passed six months ago."

"I'm so sorry." Carly watched as a shimmer rose from Evelyn's chest and spread across her body. Carly approached her and grasped her hand, breathing in and then whispering, as the energy moved into her body, "I really am. You're a good person, I can tell."

As the energy passed to Carly, Evelyn seemed to grow taller. "Thank you, Carly. I believe your kindness has lifted a weight from me."

"It's the least I can do."

The drive to Bon Temps went faster than Carly expected, and she thought that might be because of the high she felt from Evelyn, who watched her return to the car and depart and waved until Carly was out of sight.

An intermittent stream of pick-up trucks and older American cars pulled in and out of Merlotte's parking lot while Carly considered her strategy. Sookie was expecting her for lunch the next day. Carly hadn't had any substantive communication with the woman in weeks, had bonded to a vampire in the meantime, and now had a charge from some cosmic entity to protect Carly from a mad Nazi vampire and an ancient pedophile king bent on making her breed snacks with her brother. Without a clear sense of what Sookie could and couldn't do, whom she could and couldn't hear, Carly feared she would reveal everything to the other woman in a flash so terrifying she'd flee from her.

Carly sat in the car and imagined the crystalline structure Niall called into being around her in her dream. Light poured through, but no images from the outside were visible. Presumably, since he said the structure protected her from sight, no one could see either. As she thought of it, the crystal building—reminiscent of Buckminster Fuller's homes only in miniature—probably reflected light from all sides. From a distance, it was probably invisible.

Concentrating all the information she needed to conceal from Sookie—about the dangers she faced and Carly's vow to protect her and seek justice—into a pile, Carly conjured a crystal dome around it. Once the last hexagon grew into place, sealing the interior from the rest of her mind, Carly became aware that there were things she knew that she couldn't access, that were simply part of the landscape of her memory. Every attempt to access the information she knew was there failed. She remembered the night of Godric's presentation at Fangtasia, her visits with her aunt, Christophe's execution, but couldn't reach the memories she'd concealed.

Carly imagined pouring an acid on the geodesic shield and watched as the crystals dissolved, freeing the memories from within. She quickly gathered them back up and re-erected the latticework around them. After another test of the integrity of her shield, Carly walked into Merlotte's, genuinely eager to see the one person who might have some true empathy for her and the way her life had been for the first twenty-seven years.

As Carly passed through the door, Sam Merlotte's attention snapped to her. She saw him sniff, inhaling her scent. The glass that he was cleaning fell to his side and dropped, crashing to pieces on the floor.

"Shit," he grunted. Returning his attention to Carly, he said, "Hey, Carly, how are you doing?"

From the rear of the bar, Sookie said, "Carly?"

"I'm good, Sam." As Sookie skipped toward her, Carly prepared for the embrace, thickening the walls around her vault. "Sookie! Hi! I hope you don't mind."

Sookie's arms flew up around Carly's neck, and Sookie squeezed as she said, "Carly! Thanks for the surprise!"

Reflected through Sookie's mind, the hateful thoughts of her backwater customers bombarded Carly.

_Crazy Sookie gone lesbian now...pay to see that._

_Nice piece of ass walked in, but I'd like my hamburger some time today. Damn faggot in the kitchen. Prolly his fault._

_If Sookie likes that girl, she must be trouble._

As Sookie struggled to focus on Carly, she noticed the faint bite marks on Carly's neck. _What are those, __Carly? Is that a vampire bite?_

_Don't worry, Sookie. It's fine. It's-_

Sam interrupted what must have appeared an awkward silence to the rest of the bar. "What brings you to town, Carly?"

She disengaged from Sookie and moved toward a barstool. "I got a day off, so I thought I'd come in a day early and say hello to everyone at Merlotte's instead of just hanging out with Sookie and her family tomorrow."

Disapproval poured from Sam and his thoughts were none too kind. _If she gets Sookie mixed up with vampires...I'll..._

"You'll what, Sam Merlotte," Sookie cut in before he could finish his angry, murderous thought.

"Damn it, Sookie," Sam stammered through grating teeth. "You've got tables."

_I don't know why he's so down on vampires_, Sookie thought loudly toward Carly. _I'll be back soon. My shift's over at six if you want to get together after that._

"I'll be fine, Sookie." Carly spoke up loudly, "I won't be leaving here without a bowl or two of Lala's gumbo."

Carly took an inventory of Merlotte's occupants, smilingly surveying the room. The crowd looked much like it had during her previous visit, although she noticed a small group of young men crowded around a pool table in the corner. One, a short dark-haired man, quickly turned from her when he spotted her. Curious, Carly tuned into his thoughts.

_Outsider, might recognize me, keep still, look at the window, at the window, at the window..._

"Miss New York City!" Lafayette called out as he approached Carly, breaking her concentration on the dark-haired stranger. "You come back for my gumbo, I hear," he said, carrying a bowl with him. "Special delivery," he flourished, "straight from the master!"

As Lafayette sat the gumbo before her, Carly inhaled deeply, and appreciatively, realizing how hungry she was. "I wonder if my boyfriend would mind if I took you home with me, Lafayette?"

With a wink, he responded, "All depends on how fine he is, Miss Thing."

"Oh, he is," Carly laughed, "but he's all mine."

The two exchanged a few more giggles before Carly dug into the gumbo. "Delicious, Lafayette." Carly batted her eyelashes at the cook and said, "Just like you."

Lafayette strutted back to the kitchen proudly.

Sam placed a glass of water in front of her and said, "Don't make him worse, Carly. His head's big enough already."

"Oh, Sam," Carly chastised, "why do you rain on his parade? With a mind and a body like that, he deserves to strut around a little, don't you think?"

"If you say so, Carly," Sam said, as he swept up the broken glass. "Why are you really here?"

Carly took another bite of the gumbo, which she had to admit was absolutely amazing in the way that it warmed her all the way through her body, and then responded to Sam's hostile query. "Exactly why I said, Sam."

Sam leaned across the bar, intruding on her personal space, and whispered, "I don't know what you're up to, lady, but I don't trust you." Carly sensed the anger and protectiveness that poured from him. "You don't call or write Sookie for a month, and then all of a sudden you show up here, stinking of," he paused and sniffed at Carly. "Stinking of vampires and something else..."

"Bear," Carly offered. "He's a bear."

"Shit," Sam went back to drying glasses. "And you expect me to trust you?"

"No, Sam," Carly replied. "I don't expect you to trust me. I expect Sookie to trust me, and that's really all I care about."

Sam glared at her and put down a clean glass. "Sookie is my friend, Carly, and..."

"You haven't told her what you are, have you?" Carly knew that Sam concealed his true nature from his friend.

"That's not the point," Sam raised his voice, causing the nearest tables to turn toward him.

Carly took another bite of gumbo, chewing it thoroughly, before she asked, "Then what is the point, Sam?"

Sam stayed silent, but Carly poked around in his mind. _The point, damn it, is that Sookie's innocent, and a vampire would just take advantage of that. And she's not just any girl, I can tell. She's different. She smells...she smells so damn good...they'd eat her alive. And I love her...but she stays away from me..._

"Sam," Carly looked right at him as piercingly as she could, "you want to make me responsible for your own fear?"

"No," Sam spit out. "No, I don't want that."

"Then you have until sundown to make your decision." Carly knew that once Sookie met Eric and Godric, nothing would ever be the same. Perhaps, she thought, nothing would be the same for her as well, or for Eric. Carly still feared that Eric would find Sookie too delectable to ignore, and that he would push her aside.

As Sam glared at her hatefully, a ruckus came up at the front door, and Carly heard cursing and screaming that would have raised the dead.

"Y'all gotta take a number, goddamn it," a woman squealed shrilly. "I gotta get to my Lala. Yes, goddamn it, I know he a faggot, you think a mama don't know that?"

"Mama," Lafayette called out, frustration clear in his voice, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"Lala, I gotta get down to Monroe," the woman said and then swatted at the air, "goddamn it, I know, I told you, I'd do it," she said. Taking in a deep breath, "Lala, I gotta get to Monroe and take a message to another disrespectful child."

Carly took in the disheveled woman, who, if she weren't talking to herself frantically, would be astoundingly beautiful. Her dark prominent eyes had languid lids that periodically obscured the panicked look in her eyes as they descended. Even though she was shaking, cursing, and talking incessantly, she was made up beautifully, and Carly could see the resemblance between her and Lafayette immediately. Of course, what only she saw was the dense shivering energy that consumed her. She was surrounded by death, overwhelmed by it, and Carly only could stare before she realized she was already up and walking toward the woman.

"Lafayette, introduce me to your mother," Carly called out, staring hungrily at the woman who paused inside the door.

"Carly Michael, New York Socialite, Ruby Jean Reynolds, small town crazy bitch," Lafayette said. "Carly, I don't know why you want to meet my mama."

Taking Ruby Jean's hand, Carly felt the rush of energy up her hand and into her heart. "Lafayette, it's my pleasure." Knowing that she might begin to glow, especially since Ruby Jean seemed to pulse with limitless energy, Carly suggested, "Ruby, do you want to go sit outside? There are some nice trees out there. We could talk."

Calming, Ruby Jean said, "Yeah, Carly, that sounds nice. Just for a little while. I gotta, I gotta..."

"Let's go," Carly, still grasping Ruby Jean's hand, walked through the door and to a tree out of view of Merlotte's customers.

The two sat beneath the tree and held hands, sitting in quiet. Carly could feel the pulse of energy and felt a range of emotions pass through her—from frustration to rage to disappointment to worry. "Ruby Jean, how are you feeling?"

"Better," she said. "It's getting quieter, like there ain't so many people talking to me."

"How long have they talked to you?" Carly asked.

Shrugging, Ruby Jean said, "Since Lala was born. I guess I was 22 or 23 when it started. Lala's daddy was the first one, and I liked it. It made me feel loved. I still hear him every once and a while."

"How did he die?" Carly had no idea that Lafayette's father was gone.

"Car accident on the way to the hospital." Ruby Jean smiled. "Drunk side-swiped him on his way there. My sister took me, but she's not good for much these days."

As Carly siphoned off the energy of the dead, she began to feel euphoria take hold of her, and she didn't want to let go of it, although she knew she had to, or she would begin to glow. Placing her hand behind her on the tree trunk, Carly released the transformed energy into the tree, whose leaves spread and shaded the two women even more from the autumnal sunlight.

Wondering whether Ruby Jean knew that she attracted the energies of the dead, Carly asked, "Do you know where these voices come from?"

"I reckon I'm crazy," Ruby Jean smiled. "These days I guess it's God's punishment, since my son turned out queer. Or he turned out queer to punish me."

Carly let go of Ruby Jean's hand and nearly yelled, "You think that amazing, beautiful son of yours is a punishment? Or that there's something wrong with him?"

"It ain't natural. God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve," Ruby Jean replied by rote.

"That's bullshit, Ruby Jean, and you know it." Carly grabbed her hand again and sent the full force of the love she felt between her uncle and his partner into the woman's mind. "That's what love feels like, Ruby Jean, and that's divine. And that was between two men. That's what your beautiful son is capable of, and you're a bigot if you think anything else."

Tears began to stream down the medium's face, and she said, "That's how I felt about Lala's daddy."

"Then you know that's love."

Carly took all the excess energy from Ruby Jean, who began to sit straighter and look saner, and transformed it and sent it into the soil. "I think I've got it all, Ruby Jean."

"What was it?"

It took a moment for Carly to think of language that Ruby Jean would understand. The woman wasn't stupid, but she was provincial and prejudiced. "When people die, they leave energy behind. And that energy has to be cleaned up. Most of the time it lingers in a place, but you attract it, because it knows it shouldn't be there. It wants you to help it dissipate, but you don't know how to do it quite yet. I think I might be able to teach you, but you'll have to want to do it, which means you have to lay aside some of your beliefs."

"In Jesus?" Ruby Jean stared at Carly in horror.

"No," she replied, "you can believe in Jesus just like you do. But you've got to believe that death can turn back into life."

"Everything rots," Ruby Jean reasoned.

"That's right. Everything that rots brings life to things that grow." Carly smiled at the woman, who now seemed serene, although not entirely stable. "Are you going to be better to your son and stop calling him names?"

"I think so. He's a good boy, Lala. He really is." Ruby Jean stood up and dusted herself off. "I gotta go apologize to him, and then I can head back home."

"You don't have to go to Monroe anymore?" Carly wondered if the voices had stopped or whether some of Ruby Jean's symptoms were actually medical.

"No," Ruby Jean smiled, "I'm good. I gotta apologize to Sam for disturbing his peace. Maybe I'll make a nice dinner for Lala and talk to him about his friends."

"That would be good," Carly agreed.

The two women returned to the bar, and Carly realized they'd been sitting beneath the tree for quite a long time.

"Everything okay?" Lafayette asked. "You feeling okay, mama?"

"I'm fine, Lala," Ruby Jean walked up to her son, took his head in her hands, and kissed his forehead. "You mind if I make you some fried chicken and greens?"

"No," Lafayette said, looking at her askance, as if he expected an outburst. "That would be just fine, mama."

"Well, I'll walk on home and get started." Ruby Jean squeezed Carly's hand. "Thank you, Carly."

Returning her squeeze and smile, Carly said, "I'll make sure Lafayette has my number if you need me again, Ruby Jean."

"Much obliged," Ruby Jean said as she departed Merlotte's, as sane as any other widowed mother in the town.

Lafayette stared at Carly and said, "What the hell did you do to my mama?"

Not knowing how to respond, Carly grasped Lafayette's hand and thought toward him, _Sookie's not the only person who's special in the world, Lala._

Lafayette jumped backward a step, "What the mother-fucking hell did you just do?"

_Lafayette_, Carly continued to broadcast into his mind, _your mother hears voices from the dead, and it overwhelmed her. She didn't know what to do about it, and it made her seem, act, and be crazy. I took some of that from her—that's my real gift. So now she's better, but it will probably happen again, and you'll need to get me out here to help. _

"She's okay?" Lafayette said tentatively.

"Yes," Carly replied aloud. "She'll be okay for a little while, but you'll need to call me when she's not."

"She always been like that," Lafayette said. "She not crazy?"

"No," Carly shook her head. "Just sensitive."

"Well, I'll be damned. Ruby Jean Reynolds ain't crazy..." Lafayette returned to the kitchen, and Carly returned to the bar.

"Sam," Carly called out over her shoulder as she sat down at the bar, "can I get a drink?"

Carly sat at the bar, sipping whiskey and water, eating gumbo and bread, until the sun set. As it dipped beneath the horizon, Carly could feel within her a stirring, an awakening, and she realized, with joy, that she could feel Eric stirring back to life. She focused her attention on his energy and felt his hunger, exacerbated by lust, and then a sudden, and unexplainable satisfaction that stirred passion within her. At a certain point, she began to attribute some of the warmth she felt to the two whiskey's she drank, but she wondered whether the sensations along her neck and her breast, and along her hips, were imagined or if they were transferred. If they were imagined, perhaps she felt what Eric envisioned. Perhaps he awoke desiring her body next to his, as he often did. Perhaps he wanted her nearby and longed to touch her, to trace the muscles in her neck and glide across her clavicle until his fingers reached the crest of her breast.

But if the sensations were transferred from Eric to her, that meant that Eric and Godric were enjoying each other's bodies, were connecting erotically. Carly didn't know, exactly, how she felt about it. She knew that Godric lingered when Eric and Carly made love, and that he had watched as they'd consumed each other. As she imagined the scene, visualizing what the two vampires could do to each other, she felt overwhelmed and wanted desperately to insert herself into the scene, but knew she should allow maker and child time alone. They had a thousand years of history, and she understood better than to intrude upon it.

Suddenly, she felt a fissure develop in her consciousness, as if the bond that she felt with Eric split in two, and one, smaller portion of it moved to the side, caressed by loving, protective hands, but hands that were not Eric's. And then, as quickly as the sensations began, they ceased. Carly turned toward the window and watched as the sky grew dark.

Sookie popped up next to Carly, "I'm almost done, I just have to wait for my replacement."

"That's good news, Sookie," Carly responded, adding, but I think that we should expect a couple more people before we head out.

"Who?"

Carly felt a tingle along her spine, and she knew that Eric and Godric were at the door and about to arrive.

"You're going to meet my man, Sookie, and his best friend," Carly smiled, sensing that Godric now had a part of her within him.

As the door creaked open, and a faint breeze blew in, Carly watched Sam Merlotte freeze. "Now what," he said.

Carly twirled around on her barstool to watch her magnificent Viking strut into the bar, followed by Godric, unassuming as ever. Eric's eyes locked onto Carly's, and she felt a nearly magnetic pull toward him.

"Eric," she whispered.

Sookie's voice broke as she took in the viking, "That's your boyfriend, Carly?"

"No, that's my vampire," Carly replied.

When Eric stood before her, eyes still locked on hers, he said, "No, Sookie, I'm her mate." Eric's reached to cradle Carly's head in his hand and then kissed her passionately. The entire bar turned to look at the two as they warred with one another. Finally, Eric pulled away from Carly, leaving her breathless. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sookie Stackhouse." Eric looked to Sookie, smiled, and said, "Allow me to introduce Godric," Eric stepped aside to reveal his maker.

Godric stepped forward to stand before a dumbstruck Sookie, taking her hand in his own and kissing the back of her hand lightly. "It is my privilege, Miss Stackhouse."

Sookie shivered visibly, and then her shoulders began to fall and her eyes to flutter. Carly tuned into her friend's mind and realized that silence resounded through her consciousness. She didn't hear vampires—they were silence to her, and Sookie reveled in it.

"My...my pleasure," Sookie stammered. "Do you have a surname?"

"No, Miss Stackhouse, please, just call me Godric."

"My pleasure, Godric," Sookie said breathlessly.

Eric turned his attention away from Carly and away from Godric's flirting to refocus it on Sam. "Merlotte, may I have a moment of your time?"

"Sure, Northman," Sam replied, walking toward his office.

Sookie appeared disoriented. "Sam knows your boyfriend?"

"It appears so," Carly affirmed. "But most business people in the area know Eric."

"Wow," Sookie exclaimed, still holding firm to Godric's hand. "Do you know Sam, Godric?"

"No," the elder vampire replied, "but I am new to the state."

"Where did you come from?"

Sookie's innocent interest was extraordinarily endearing, Carly thought. Carly also wondered how much Godric would tell her.

"Originally, the area now called Belgium, but, most recently, Dallas," Godric smiled, as he let his hand fall and his body approach Sookie's.

Carly felt another wave of lust roll through her, and she realized that somehow she was feeling Godric's impulses and emotions rather than only Eric's. _What the hell did those two do?_

"That's amazing!" Sookie looked at Godric inquiringly and asked, "How old are you?"

Godric smiled, using the opportunity to move even closer to Sookie, "What are you asking, Miss Stackhouse?"

Sookie gulped. "Well," she whispered, "you said the area is called Belgium. You look so young."

"A vampire's appearances can deceive," Godric responded.

Carly realized that Godric, as guileless as he often appeared, could be devastatingly seductive, just like his child. She could practically see Sookie's knees buckle as she held Godric's hand.

"You appear to be a teenager—just a senior in high school, but your eyes are older," Sookie said quietly.

"As I was a teenager, when I was made vampire," Godric paused, Carly realized, for effect, "before your savior was born in his manger."

Nearly bursting into laughter, Carly restrained herself. Godric was really laying it on thick, and Carly didn't know if he genuinely wanted to seduce the young woman or if he was just flexing his muscles.

Eric and Sam emerged from his office-Sam's arms locked across his chest, and Eric strutting like a peacock.

Eric moved to stand immediately in front of Carly, so he could whisper in her ear. "I need you to go outside with me."

"Okay," she assented.

Eric took her hand, before turning back to Sam. "Does she have a tab?"

"Yeah," the bar owner nodded.

Eric pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and laid a hundred dollars on the bar. "Consider it a tip."

He swept Carly up into his arms and zoomed from the bar. When the stopped, Carly found herself pressed against a tree in a wooded area, the lights of the bar dimly visible.

"What are you doing, Eric?" Carly asked.

"I told you. I need you." Eric opened his mouth and landed hungry kisses across her face, her mouth, and her neck. "I need to fuck you, to have you."

"Okay," Carly agreed. "I need you too."

Eric pulled at her jeans, tearing open the fly and pushing one leg off so that she was entirely exposed to him. Before Carly could even reply, he'd divested himself of his own pants and penetrated her, protecting her all the while from the tree's roughness.

"I need you," Eric cried out as he devoured her lips and her earlobe, finally nipping at her with his fangs retracted.

"Did you..." Carly struggled to speak as he pounded gloriously into her. "Did you and Godric..."

Pulling back from her for a moment, Eric said, "Fuck?"

"Yes?" Carly replied, hungrier than she had expected to sound.

"No," Eric responded before kissing her and driving into her again. "We exchanged blood, so he could feel more of our bond. So he could feel more alive."

He pulled back from her a moment, and Carly could see the playfulness in his eyes, "Would you have liked it if I did fuck him?"

She couldn't deny the eroticism of the vision, "I wouldn't have minded if you had."

"Do you want to watch?" Eric ground against her again. "He's watched us."

"No," Carly said, "You're mine!" Carly squealed as an orgasm hit her. "You're mine, Eric Northman. All of you."

"Yes," Eric kissed her and moved back and forth within her faster and faster. "Yes, I am yours, and you are mine."

Eric's fangs popped out, and he ripped into his wrist. "Drink!"

Carly's lips encircled the wound at the same moment that Eric bit sharply into her throat. As the two drew from each other, Carly's world softened and expanded. She felt their bodies melt into one another, their consciousnesses fuse together, but she also felt an additional element. She saw and felt Godric, sitting in the bar, talking to Sookie.

Godric shivered, and his eyes closed halfway as a brief moan left him.

"Are you okay?" Sookie asked.

"Oh, yes," Godric smiled. "I am fine, Sookie."

"What happened?"

"My child and his woman are enjoying each other's bodies," Godric's free hand came up to touch his chest gently before traveling up to his throat. "And the sensation is quite extraordinary."

"You can feel them," Sookie asked, before adding in a whisper, "having sex?"

"Oh," Godric's voice shook, "it is more than that, Sookie."

"What do you mean?"

Godric, still holding Sookie's hand firmly, traced the tendons in the back of her hand and up her arm to her shoulder. "They have merged into one, and their pleasures transcend the ego."

Sookie stared at the vampire and the longing and desire upon her face suggested a deep and unmovable sadness. "I'll never know anything like that."

"Yes," Godric drew her hand to his mouth, "Sookie, you will, as soon as you consent to be mine."

As Godric's desire radiated through them both, Eric and Carly cried out with overwhelming pleasure and lit up the night sky in an explosive display that the residents of Bon Temps attributed alternately to a transformer explosion and an alien visitation.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N I hope everyone had a happy holiday and has a fabulous New Year's Eve and Day. I've taken a few liberties with Sookie's dad's origin story from the books. As usual, I intend no copyright infringement.

Chapter 14

Eric stomped out another small fire as Carly pulled sap from her hair.

"Since you and Godric exchanged blood just before we did, I'll be able to feel Godric?" Carly asked as she pulled a hunk of resin from her hair.

"Perhaps," Eric mused. "I don't expect it to be a strong connection, but you may feel strong emotions."

Carly walked up to Eric and encircled him in her arms, nibbling along his shoulder blade. "I certainly felt quite a bit from him while we were going at it."

Eric laughed lightly as he turned to face her. "I think he's taken a shine to Sookie."

"Is that a good idea?" Carly wondered aloud.

"Most likely not," Eric kissed her and added, "but she will be safest with him."

Carly traced Eric's jawline with her fingers and speculated, "I don't think she'll leave Bon Temps. And I don't know if she'll want to be a king's pet after her cousin's experience."

"I doubt Hadley has said anything negative about her time with Sophie Ann," Eric reminded her.

"We better get back," Carly advised. "Sookie is probably wondering where we are, even though Godric told her what we were doing."

"You saw that as well?" Eric stared at his lover. "I still don't understand everything that happens when we share blood and make love." Looking toward a spot of charred ground, he said, "It seems we've become incendiary as well."

Carly laughed. "So I guess no camping for us." She added, "I don't know if we're meant to understand everything, except to know that we're stronger together than apart." Carly took Eric's hand and began walking toward Merlotte's.

When they approached the rear entrance, they saw Godric and Sookie standing hand-in-hand beside a yellow compact car.

"You have sated yourselves, my children," Godric said, the smile on his face causing his voice to resonate further than it did usually.

"Yes, your majesty," Eric responded. "Have you discussed your plans with Miss Stackhouse?"

Carly examined the two and saw how light Sookie looked, as if she had just been swept off her feet by a knight in shining armor. "Sookie?" Carly asked.

"Um, yeah, Carly, I invited Godric to come over and meet Gran and everybody," Sookie grinned widely. "She's expecting you two as well."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her." Carly looked into Sookie's mind quickly to assess how well she was coping with meeting the vampires.

_He's so beautiful and sweet. I still can't believe he's so old. And I think he really likes me. It's so wonderful how quiet everything is when I'm holding his hand—I can't hear anyone, even Carly. It's like I'm finally alone..._

_Sookie_, Carly called out to the other telepath and waited for a response. _Sookie, can you hear me?_

Carly watched as Sookie continued to smile at Godric, all her longing and desire clearly displayed in her eyes. Her eyes closed, Carly visualized Godric's mind as a precipice above a void. Sookie stood perched at the edge, balancing gracefully and staring down into the void. Carly touched her hand and whispered, _Sookie, look at me._

_Carly?_ "Carly?" Sookie vocalized. "How did you do that?

"Sookie, can you use Godric as an anchor, and then reach out towards me?"

The vampires watched silently as Sookie tried to follow Carly's coaching. Meanwhile, Carly thought encouraging thoughts as loudly as she could. _You can do it, Carly. I think that Godric's mind draws you toward it, but that you can direct your mind toward another, toward mine..._

After a few quiet moments, Sookie managed to grasp hold of Carly. _Carly, I can hear you now._

_Now try to reach out into the bar. See if you can hear Lafayette or Sam. I'll stay with you, because I seem to be able to piggy-back on what you hear._

_Okay_, Sookie responded, _I'll try._

Carly could feel Sookie struggle against Godric's attraction, could sense as Sookie sent a tendril toward the bar, toward Lafayette.

As Sookie penetrated Lafayette's mind, Carly could hear his thoughts as well. _Don't know what the hell that girl did to my mama, but she seem better, seem not so damned crazy. I hope it stay that way, 'cause I don't know how the hell I get enough money to put her in the hospital. I'll be damned if I let my mama go to some filthy fuckin' state crazy house. I guess I pick up another job, but it probably not enough...figure somethin' out, but hopin' she stay good. Be nice to have my mama back to somethin' like normal._

_That's good, Sookie_, Carly encouraged. _Can you find Sam?_

Carly felt Sookie feeling around the bar, touching minds and recoiling away from them, until she arrived at Sam.

Sookie's experience of Sam's mind, for some reason, differed from Carly's. Unlike Lafayette's mind, Sam's seemed knotted, wrapped in hot red threads. Sookie couldn't access his thoughts directly or linearly, but in fits and starts. _Damned vampire...Sookie...so innocent..._

Sam's thoughts disappeared and, instead, Carly felt sensations of warmth and wind and pure adrenaline.

Sookie broke away and asked Carly, "Why does he feel so different than everyone else, Carly?"

Unwilling to betray Sam's secret, Carly said, "You have to ask him, not me."

Sookie tried to pry the idea away from Carly's mind, but she couldn't—Carly held too tightly to the secret, obscuring it from view. "That's not fair, Carly!"

_Just because I can hide things from you, Sookie, _Carly thought toward the other telepath, _you shouldn't be angry with me._

"But why can you hide things from me?" Sookie said aloud.

"We're different," Carly tried to explain. "We're not telepathic for the same reasons, so mine works a little differently than yours does."

Carly could feel Sookie poking around the explanation, looking for more information, but Carly had cleared her conscious mind.

"Why can I hear music?" Sookie asked. "From that war movie?"

Eric began humming Wagner's "Flight of the Valkyries" and chuckling.

"Yeah," Sookie nearly jumped up and down, "that's it! How did you know?" Sookie looked from Eric to Godric, who was now laughing quietly as well. "Can vampires read minds?"

"No," Eric replied, "It's just our song."

"Your grandmother will be waiting for us, Sookie," Godric redirected Sookie's attention toward home. "Shall I ride with you?"

Sookie reddened slightly, enough to be seen in the exterior lamplight. "I guess you can, Godric." Turning to Carly, she asked, "Where's your car?"

"It's in the front."

"Okay," Sookie responded by unlocking the door of the yellow compact. "Just follow me. We'll be headed out to Hummingbird Lane, if we get separated."

"We won't," Eric answered and held out his hand to Carly for the keys.

Eric and Carly walked toward the front parking lot and climbed into the car. Sookie soon passed, and Eric followed her out the driveway onto the highway.

"What did you talk to Sam Merlotte about?"

Eric's focus on the road didn't waver. "I asked him if he'd seen any vampires in the area or had encountered vampires in one of his other forms."

"Do you think a vampire would recognize him as a shape-shifter when he was an animal?" Carly wanted some clarity about how vampires sensed other supernatural beings, although she didn't know if she'd asked the right question.

"No, they wouldn't." Eric stole a glance at Carly, before he added, "We recognize him as different than human from his scent and his temperature."

"Why?"

"He smells of dog, and he's much hotter than a human—probably three degrees—just like a werewolf," Eric said, growling slightly as he said "werewolf."

"What did he say?"

"He reported encountering a vampire as he was running through the cemetery, near Sookie's home," Eric replied, "and he promised to notify me if he sees him or any other vampire again."

"That can't be everything," Carly challenged. "You were in there a while, and he seemed ticked off when you came out."

Eric smirked at her. "He was." After a short chuckle, Eric added, "I told him that Sookie's family was now under our protection, and that they were all in danger."

"Did he want to know why?" Carly felt a little annoyed that Eric seemed so guarded. "And why do I feel like you're keeping something from me?"

"I'm not, my love," Eric responded without hesitation. "I'm simply trying to remain focused on the road." He added quickly, "Merlotte was suspicious and angry. I suspect he has feelings for the girl he's been too cowardly to act upon. I told him that members of Sookie's extended family had been kidnapped, and we suspected she was at risk as well."

"Okay." Carly was finally satisfied.

As they finished their conversation, Sookie pulled off the road onto Hummingbird Lane. After about half a mile, she pulled into a long driveway that led to a farmhouse. Two cars were parked near the end of the driveway, beside a shed, and two women sat beneath the porch light on a swing. As the car lights fell upon them, Carly recognized the younger of the two as Hadley, who looked anxious.

Sookie drove around the house to park her car next to the other two vehicles. Before Sookie could open her door, Godric opened it for her and extended his hand.

"Wow," Sookie gasped, "you're fast, huh?"

"Yes," Godric answered. "Vampires are much faster than humans, perhaps because we must do everything during the hours of darkness."

As Godric took Sookie's hand, she said, "I don't know how you do it. I could never give up the sun, or my tan."

"One adjusts," he answered quietly. "I am eager to meet your grandmother, Sookie."

Sookie led Godric toward the porch steps, where her path intersected with Eric's and Carly's.

Mrs. Stackhouse walked toward the steps and called out, "Carly, is that you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Carly answered. "I'm glad to finally meet you."

"Don't ma'am me, Carly," the elderly woman chastised. "Please, call me Adele." Gesturing toward Hadley, she said, "You remember my granddaughter Hadley, I suppose?"

"Yes, Adele, happily." Carly smiled and gave a brief wave toward Hadley, who was staring toward her cousin and Godric.

Hadley's emotions were visible to anyone, but Carly penetrated her thoughts to validate her suspicions. _Why is that vamp holding Sookie's hand? I never seen him before, but he's cute. Carly's with the sheriff, so I guess they're still a thing. Damn, I miss New Orleans sometimes, even if it is good not to get bit all the time. I miss living like that, miss not working._

"Nice to see you again, Hadley," Carly addressed her directly, trying to get her attention away from Sookie.

"Yeah," Hadley smiled genuinely, "it's good to see you too." _I probably would've wound up dead or a vampire if I stayed there, so I should be glad, and it's good to know what's going on and not be so tired all the time._

"Gran," Sookie joined the conversation, "can I introduce you to Godric and Eric Northman? They're vampires, Gran."

Adele smiled, looking from one man to another, "Well, I'll be. It's nice to meet you gentlemen."

Sookie joined her grandmother on the porch, and then Adele added, "Please, come in. I don't have any of that bottled blood, but I could call my grandson to pick some up."

"That will not be necessary, Mrs. Stackhouse," Godric replied, mounting the stairs before extending his hand. When Adele took it, he raised her hand to his lips and said, "Your company will be sustenance enough for both of us."

Releasing a giggle befitting a school-girl, Adele said, "Well, I don't know about that, but I'll do the best I can."

Adele scampered toward the front door and ushered Godric in the door, with Sookie and Hadley following.

Carly turned to Eric and whispered, "When did Godric turn into a such big flirt?"

Eric leaned down and said, "My maker has many skills. He just doesn't reveal them all at once."

"I guess so."

"Carly," Adele called to her, "I don't have anything for Godric or Eric, but could I get you something?"

"I would love something to drink, Adele." Carly smiled at her host and added, "whatever you have handy would be lovely. I had two bowls of Lafayette's gumbo, but I could use something liquid."

"Oh, I would say," Adele responded, hustling toward the kitchen, "it's good, but I've always thought it was a little too salty."

Godric followed the old woman into the kitchen. "May I be of any assistance, Adele?"

"No, oh my, no," Adele turned to face him, "please just sit and visit with my girls and your friends."

"My gran won't let you do any work, Godric," Sookie chimed in. "I hope no one minds if I run up and change real fast. I need to get out of these greasy clothes."

Sookie popped out of the parlor and ran up the stairs.

"Hadley," Carly addressed the former vampire pet, "how is everything going now that you're back in Bon Temps?"

"It's good," Hadley answered. "I'm studying for my GED. I never finished high school, so I've got to take the test before I can do any other schooling." Hadley smiled, "If I'm going to share custody of my son someday, I have to do better than work as a grocery clerk."

Eric interrupted, "I had no idea you had a child."

Hadley shrugged, "Why should you have? Not like we talked."

"But did Sophie-Ann know?" Eric questioned.

"Yeah," Hadley began playing with her fingernails, "but she really didn't care."

"What's his name?" Carly wanted to get the conversation back onto happier terms before Adele returned from the kitchen.

"Hunter Savoy," Hadley brightened considerably. "He's three, and just so smart." Her countenance darkened slightly before she added, "I think he's a little like Sookie, you know?"

"Have you said that to anyone else?" Eric asked.

"No, just to family," Hadley replied quickly, and then asked with fear, "You don't think I could get him in trouble, do you?"

In a reassuring tone, Eric said, "Just don't say too much to anyone about him. It's probably best if he spends most of his time with his father for now."

Sookie bounded down the stairs and said, "Let me help you with that Gran," as Adele rounded into the parlor.

"I've got sweet tea and coke," Adele announced, "and a little fruit to undo the damage from Lafayette's gumbo." She added, "And next time y'all stop by, I'll have some of that blood substitute."

"Thank you, Adele." Godric said appreciatively. "I hope to see more of you all, especially Sookie."

Flushing again, Sookie said, "That would be nice, wouldn't it, Gran?"

"Why, yes, it would." Adele poured Carly a glass of tea and then asked, "So, is it true about how long y'all live?"

"Many of us are very long lived," Godric answered, before Sookie interrupted.

"Godric's two thousand years old, Gran!"

Adele fumbled the tea pitcher, but Eric caught it before it hit the floor. Before Adele fell, Godric rushed around to support her weight.

"Perhaps we could have timed that disclosure more carefully," Godric said as he lowered Adele into a large chair that Hadley slid forward. "But, yes, Adele. I am two thousand years old, and my child, Eric, is one thousand years old."

"Lord almighty," Adele exclaimed. "Do you remember all of it?"

"Most all of it," Godric knelt beside her chair, visibly assessing her health. "Some things fade, or drift together, more from our human lives than from after we changed. But, if we concentrate, we can recover almost any memory."

"So you must know so much about history." Adele's face brightened, and she leaned forward. "I love history so much."

"Gran's a member of the Descendants of the Glorious Dead," Sookie offered, "which remembers the Louisiana soldiers who died in the civil war."

"I was not present for America's Civil War," Godric confessed, "but my library includes a number of records related to New Orleans during the war."

"Your library?" Adele looked to Hadley. "Hadley, can you hand me some tea?"

"Yes," Godric stood and walked toward Sookie, whose hand he took again, leading her toward a seat. "If I may, Adele, my child and I have important matters to discuss with you and your grandchildren."

All three of the Stackhouse women looked concerned, but refrained from saying anything.

Carly pushed herself back in her seat, slightly annoyed that Godric failed to include her in the discussion. He caught the gesture and corrected himself.

"My apologies, Carly also has information to contribute, and you may feel more comfortable if she begins our narrative." Godric ceded the floor to Carly in a grand gesture.

"Um, okay," Carly had not wanted to give all the information, but she felt as if she might as well begin with the LeBlancs. "Adele, a number of people from one family in New Orleans have been kidnapped, and we have reason to believe that your grandchildren might also be targeted."

"What?" Adele, visibly confused, responded with anger, "But we don't have any money? Why would anyone want to kidnap my grandchildren?"

"They weren't kidnapped for money, Adele." Carly continued her explanation. "You know that your grand-daughter Sookie is unusual, right?"

"Yes," Adele answered warily. "She's always been a special girl."

Carly tuned in to Adele's thoughts to see if the woman understood where their conversation would lead. _She hears thoughts. But the others don't. I don't know why it's just her, when her grand-daddy said the twins would hear thoughts_.

_Twins_, Carly wondered. "Well, she's special because of her heritage, just like your other grandchildren, and these folks in New Orleans have similar family history."

"They're Stackhouses too?" Sookie asked.

"Your children, Adele," Carly asked gently, "how far apart in age were they?"

Adele shook her head. "They weren't. They were twins—a boy and a girl." _Had their daddy's beautiful eyes, but didn't hear thoughts_.

"Could I see a picture of them?" Carly asked. "Do you have any color pictures of all of you?"

Carly had a hunch, but she walled it off from Sookie, who she could tell was pressing at her mind, trying desperately to gain access to it.

"Sure," Adele started to get up, but then seemed to think better of it. "Hadley, can you go get the picture off my bureau?"

Hadley sprinted out of the parlor and into a back bedroom. She returned in a moment with the faded 1970s photograph. Adele, much the same—still gray-haired, green-eyed, and strong-sat beside a darkly handsome Earl Stackhouse—a raven-haired man whose dark eyes were framed with gray at the temples. Their children, both blond, but with startlingly golden hazel eyes, framed them.

"They were just as beautiful as their children, Adele," Carly complimented. "But they must favor your side, since they don't resemble their father very much."

"Oh," Adele began, but paused. "I always thought they did."

"Their eyes, especially," Carly followed up, "are unique. I've only seen eyes like that once, long ago, in New Orleans." Carly remembered Murtagh's eyes and wondered if there were any relation.

"Well, perhaps," Adele stumbled as she spoke, "in the right light."

"Gran," Sookie said quietly, "is there something you haven't told us about grand-daddy?"

Adele glanced down at her hands, and then tears began to well up in her eyes. "Sookie, please," she said and then began to cry in earnest. "I never wanted you to think badly of me."

Sookie rushed to her grandmother's side and took her hand. "I could never think bad of you, Gran. You've been everything to me."

Godric pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to Adele.

"Can we call Jason, so I only have to tell the story once?" Adele pleaded.

"Sure, Gran," Sookie answered. "Let me go call him."

Godric followed Sookie into the kitchen, unwilling to abandon his new charge. Hadley picked up on Godric's protectiveness and confronted Eric, stepping directly in front of him.

"Who is he?" Hadley demanded, crossing her arms. "I've never seen him before, and I think I've met all the vampires in Louisiana at least once."

"He lived in Texas most recently," Eric answered, intentionally ignoring her real question. "He has only moved here in the last few weeks."

"You didn't answer my question, Sheriff," Hadley demanded again.

"You're a sheriff?" Adele asked. "That's quite impressive, Mr. Northman. I didn't know there were any vampire sheriffs in Louisiana."

"Gran," Hadley interrupted, "there aren't. At least, there aren't any sheriffs for humans that are vampires. He's a sheriff over vampires, and there are five in Louisiana. And they all serve a vampire queen."

"King." Eric's correction was barely audible. "There's now a king, Hadley."

"He's on his way, Gran," Sookie re-entered the room, Godric in tow.

"Sookie," Adele turned to look toward Sookie with an excited look on her face, "Hadley and Eric were telling me all about vampires," she paused, "and I guess their government."

"Really?" Sookie dropped down to her grandmother's side again. "Y'all have your own government?"

"We have concealed ourselves for thousands of years," Godric smiled, "and our organization has enabled that concealment."

"How does it work?" Adele asked. "Eric says there's a king?"

"Each territory is governed by a monarch and his or her sheriffs," Godric began. "Some territories correspond to human political boundaries, but not all. The Great Plains, for example, only require one monarch, although the same geographical area is divided into six human states."

"So Mr. Northman is a sheriff? Are you a sheriff too, Godric?" Adele wondered aloud.

"No, Mrs. Stackhouse. I recently took control of Louisiana. I am now king." Godric smiled slightly before he nodded at the elderly woman. "And we are here to make ourselves of service to you and your family."

The sound of skidding and gravel crunching broke the awkward silence. Soon after, a young man bounded into the farmhouse.

"Hey y'all!" He said. "Whose car is that?"

"Ours," Eric rose and approached Jason. With a nod and a gesture toward Carly, he said, "I'm Eric Northman, and this is my-"

Carly jumped up and held out her hand to Jason, "I'm Carly Michael. Sookie's friend?"

"Yeah," Jason acknowledged, "she mentioned you. Said you were like her."

Carly smiled and said, "Yes, a little. And this is Godric."

Godric walked to within an arm's distance of Jason and held out his hand. "You are her brother, Jason, yes?"

Taking in everyone in the room, Jason said, "Yeah. Pleased to meet you." When he shook Godric's hand, he said, "Damn, you gotta get to a doctor man. Your hand's cold."

"I am a vampire, Jason," Godric replied. "And we are here, because we fear your family could be in danger."

"What the hell?" Jason glowered at Hadley. "Hadley, you said you didn't have anything to do with these fuckers anymore."

"Jason Stackhouse, language!" Adele yelled.

"Yes, ma'am." Jason sank into a rocking chair beside the fire. "Hadley, what's going on?"

"It's not me, Jason," Hadley pointed to Carly. "I didn't have anything to do with it. Carly brought them."

"Yeah, okay," Jason raised his voice again, "but why did y'all need me? You said you're Sookie's friend."

"I asked for you to be here, Jason," Adele straightened herself, closed her eyes, and steeled herself to disclose her secret. "I wanted you to be here, so I only had to tell this story one time, although I'm guessing Carly's already figured it out. But I want you to hear it from me."

Adele picked up the family photograph and touched Earl's cheek. "I loved your Grand-daddy Earl more than anything in the world. We got married when I was twenty years old. And we were married for another twenty before your parents were born." Adele stole a glance at her grandchildren. "We tried, but I just didn't get pregnant. It took me a long time to realize that it was probably because of the bad case of the mumps Earl had when he was a boy. They left him sterile."

"But," Sookie broke in, "you managed to have daddy and Linda. Did you get in-vitro or something?"

"No, darlin'," Adele said, beginning to cry again, "although I guess you could say I got a donor."

"What?" Jason cut in. "You needed me here to talk about getting' pregnant, gran?"

"Damn it, Jason Stackhouse, can you listen for just one minute!" Adele chastised her grandson. "I had an affair!"

"So grand-daddy Earl wasn't our grand-dad?" Jason said plaintively.

"No, Jason, he was your grand-daddy. He loved you, but he didn't sire your daddy." Adele wiped her eyes with Godric's handkerchief again. "One day I was out hanging laundry in the back, and I started crying. I'd just been over to a baby shower at the church, and I knew I'd never have one. I was almost forty, and I knew I didn't have much longer before it would never be possible."

Sookie took her grand-mother's hand, and her eyes widened. "What are you saying, Gran?"

"I looked into the woods and begged for help. I asked for an angel to come give me a child," Adele's voice broke. "And there he was, just as beautiful as an angel. You look a lot like him, Jason. Maybe that's why all the girls are always after you." She laughed quietly. "He told me he'd give me a child, but that I had to keep their secret, and help them when they began to hear other people's thoughts and began to glow."

"Glow..." Sookie whispered. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," Adele squeezed her grand-daughter's hand. "But it never happened. They never heard anyone's thoughts, or glowed, or seemed any different at all. When they were born, he came to visit and seemed so sad. He said they weren't right, didn't have the spark."

She whimpered and then said, "But they were everything to me and your grand-daddy. We loved them so much."

"Has he ever returned?" Carly asked. "Has anyone ever come to see Sookie?"

"No," Adele shook her head with sorrow and said, "I never saw him again."

"Why do you want to know if anyone's ever come to see me?" Sookie sank down to the floor and crossed her arms. "There's nothing special about me. I don't glow."

"But you do hear other people's thoughts," Godric corrected, before adding, for Jason's benefit, "And that makes you extraordinary, my dear Sookie." Godric raised her up from the floor, and led her to the sofa. "Now that you have shared your information, Adele, we must share ours."

"Is it about those kidnapped people?" Sookie stared up at Godric, who still held her hand.

"Yes, Sookie," Godric sat beside her and cradled her hand in his. "The man who came to you, Adele, and gave you children, was not human, or at least, not entirely human."

"That's crazy!" Jason exclaimed, standing to emphasize his displeasure. "You can't expect us to believe something so stupid. I mean..."

"Sit!" Adele called out. "He's right. I know that, Godric. He told me he was a fairy—or at least that his father was a fairy."

"You slept with a queer, Gran?" Jason's voice broke. "My grand-daddy was a fag?"

"Jason Stackhouse, will you settle down and listen, for once in your life!" Adele stood up stiffly and approached her grandson. "Jason, Fintan was a fairy, a real fairy. He wasn't a human being. He was like..."

"Tinkerbell?" Jason said quietly.

"No," Godric answered Jason's question. "Fairies are fearsome creatures. Strong, powerful, with the ability to move through dimensions. They have interacted with human beings for centuries, but often with deadly consequences."

"So," Sookie asked tentatively, "we're part fairy?"

"Yes," Godric replied, "as are the LeBlancs. But not all part fairies have your abilities, Sookie. And they are very desirable, because they may coincide with other qualities."

"Like her blood," Hadley interposed quietly. "Her blood could let a vampire walk in the daylight, couldn't it?"

"What?" Sookie pulled away from Godric. "You want my blood?"

Godric smiled at Sookie and said, "I would be lying if I said no, but not because it might let me walk in day-light."

"Then why?" Sookie demanded.

"Because it sings to me, Sookie," Godric took her hand gently again. "Everything about you calls out to me and demands my attention and affection."

"Well, that's just fucking creepy," Jason offered.

"Jason! You can just get out of here right now." Adele grabbed a broom from beside the fireplace. "I am done with that language of yours."

"Unfortunately, Mrs. Stackhouse," Eric spoke up, "he really should not. We have reason to believe that Jason might be targeted along with his sister."

"I don't hear voices or glow in the dark or anything like that," Jason offered, "so why would anybody like to take me?"

"Because, Jason, those who have kidnapped the LeBlancs have long term goals," Eric walked slowly toward the angry young man. "They are not satisfied with the possibility of one or two fairies if it might be possible for them to have a stable full of fairies."

"I don't get it," Jason responded. "You said they already had a bunch. Why do they want me?"

After a long, appraising look, Eric said, "I have no idea why they would." Returning to face Adele, who still brandished the broom, Eric said, "They wish to breed fairies, and they require more males."

"This is my fault," Hadley began to cry. "If I hadn't told Sophie-Ann about you, none of this would be happening."

"No, child," Godric comforted her. "Sophie-Ann's interest in fairies long pre-dates her involvement with you."

Eric held his hand out to Adele. "Adele, please sit. We still need to discuss a great deal."

Adele handed Eric the broom and returned to her seat. "If they're going to try to kidnap my grand-kids, what are we going to do about it?"

"We have some reason to believe that the LeBlancs are nearby, because the proposed rendezvous point is near the Mississippi border," Godric explained. "We plan to investigate and remove the threats to your safety, at least in the short term."

"What about the long term?" Sookie asked. "What about my long-term safety?"

Godric smiled again and said, "Perhaps you recall our earlier conversation, Sookie."

Sookie cocked her head at him and said, "I don't understand, Godric. Earlier, I thought you asked me out, or expressed some kind of interest in me, but now I just don't see how that would be possible. And I'm not becoming someone's pet." Sookie quickly turned around to face her cousin, "No offense, Hadley."

"None taken, Sookie," Hadley replied. "But it wasn't a bad life, Sookie. Sophie-Ann just wasn't the best person."

"Still," Sookie affirmed, "I am an independent person, not a lap dog."

"Of course not, Sookie," Godric assured her. "I would have no desire to demean you in any way. In fact, I would like to offer you my protection, and to enter into a relationship with you," Godric turned to Adele, "with your family's permission, of course."

"Sookie makes her own decisions, Godric," Adele replied, "but I don't think any girl would want to start courting when she's afraid of getting turned into a breed sow."

"Certainly not," Godric agreed. "We can revisit the issue on another occasion, after we neutralize this immediate threat."

"Where are you staying?" Sookie asked suddenly. "I never asked you that, Carly."

Eric and Godric took the hint and allowed Carly to answer the question. "Godric has an RV, and we've parked it at the KOA out in Hastings. We towed the car."

"Do you need to stay out at the KOA?" Adele asked and then continued, "You're more than welcome to park it out here. I think we can string an extension out for electric and there's a valve on the septic, although you should just use the facilities in the house."

"A … man," Godric struggled to label Yevgeny appropriately and turned to Adele for guidance.

"We have a driver and bodyguard with us, and his English isn't terribly good." Carly smiled, "Is that what you wanted to say, Godric?"

"Yes, I wouldn't want Yevgeny to make you uncomfortable, because he's an imposing figure."

Eric added, "He would probably be more comfortable here with the woods."

"Well, that's decided," Adele slapped her knees. "Y'all need to go get the RV so we can get it set up while I can still show you where everything goes." Standing, she continued, "Make sure you pick up some of that blood, and I could use another dozen eggs, some bacon, and some nice bread if I'm going to make breakfast for everybody. There's a little store out on the highway where you can stop."

"Yes ma'am," Godric nodded. "Eric, would you mind?"

"Not at all," Eric directed his comments toward Adele, "If you think of anything further, Mrs. Stackhouse, both Carly and Godric have my phone number."

"Thank you, Eric," Adele smiled at the vampire. "Jason, you could learn some manners from these two gentlemen." After waving goodbye at Eric, Adele said, "Well, I better get dinner on the table."

Carly hadn't paid much attention to Jason since his last scolding, but she looked toward the bent figure in the corner, beside the fireplace.

"Yeah, whatever, Gran." Jason rubbed his temples. "So Mr. Godric, you're interested in dating my sister, huh?"

"Yes, Jason," Godric answered, before turning toward Sookie, "I find myself drawn to your sister, which surprises me even more than I believe it has surprised you."

"How old are you, anyway?" Jason walked over to Godric. "You don't even look old enough to shave, man."

Sookie stepped between the two men and spoke to her brother, "Jason, can you please not be an idiot for five minutes?"

"I can't ask this vampire nothing, Sook, huh?" Jason gestured in exasperation before repeating, "How old are you?"

"He's old enough to be able to say he's interested in me, Jason," Sookie put her hands on her hips. "Can't you just leave well enough alone, Jason?"

"No, now that the tall one's gone, I figure this is as good a time as any to ask Mr. Baby-Faced Vampire what he really wants with my sister," Jason tilted his chin up in a pugilist's challenge. "What are your intentions?"

Sookie turned quickly to face Godric, who was barely a head taller than she. "You don't have to answer that, Godric, please."

Godric ran his fingertips along Sookie's cheek and said, "No, Sookie, I do have to answer his question, but the answer might upset you."

"It couldn't," Sookie replied quickly. The two stared at each other for a moment, and Carly couldn't resist the temptation to tap into their thoughts.

Sookie eagerly awaited Godric's answer. _I shouldn't want him to say something so much. I just met him, but he's so quiet, so calm. He's beautiful, and he says he wants me. I shiver every time I look at him._

Carly tried to access Godric's thoughts, but couldn't get a handle on them, although she felt nothing but joy and excitement pouring out of him. She knew that what she felt was only the faintest echo of what Godric truly felt.

Taking Sookie's hand in his, Godric said, "I want you, everything you are, to be mine."

Sookie shivered slightly and then said, "I...don't know what..."

"You do not need to say anything, Sookie." Godric kissed Sookie's hand, and her eyes fluttered. "Just get to know me and allow me to protect you from danger." Redirecting his gaze to Jason, Godric said, "I hope that declaration will suffice, Mr. Stackhouse."

"So you want to marry my sister?" Jason's disbelief was still audible in his voice.

"No," Hadley chimed in, and Carly saw that tears were streaming down her face, "he wants to bond with her." Hadley ran around the sofa to embrace Sookie and then turned to Godric, "You better be good to her."

Just as suddenly, Hadley ran into the kitchen, calling behind her, "Come on, Jason, leave them alone."

Carly agreed, "That sounds like good advice. I think I'm going for a walk."

"Please be careful until Eric returns, Carly," Godric cautioned. "I will be able to feel any distress, but please do not rely on that connection for your safety."

"I won't, Godric," Carly nodded and said, "You'll have your attention elsewhere, I'm sure."

Leaving the lovers behind, Carly walked outside and scanned the Stackhouse property. Most of the area was obscured by darkness, but the moon illuminated clearings among the tightly packed live oaks and between the bald cypresses. One shimmered with dense ripples of death energy, stronger than others she'd seen elsewhere. Carly's heart began to beat quickly, and she felt an impossible to deny hunger pull her toward the clearing. As she approached, the scent of honeysuckle and roses flooded her, and her mouth began to water. She crossed the distance to the energy that she doubted she'd walked—_Did I teleport?_

Carly reached out her hand gingerly and felt a rush of energy so dense it felt like liquid fire. As the energy filled her, violent images flooded her brain, and she saw lithe figures tearing at each other, much as she had in Godric's library. She drew the talisman from her pocket and watched as it started to glow. Her body pulsed as the energy entered her body, transformed, and moved into the talisman. A conduit between worlds, between death and life, Carly waited for the process to end, but the liquid fire continued to pour through her and then out into the talisman, until it finally became too hot for her to hold. Stumbling backward, Carly fell to the ground, panting. The talisman, feet away from her on the ground, finally quieted and returned to its original color. Carly rose to retrieve it and realized that she was glowing brightly. As she moved toward the talisman, she found herself back within the energy field, and unable to reach the charm.

After she stepped back outside the field, Carly closed her eyes and imagined the talisman within her hand. _If I can move people, why not things too?_ she thought. As soon as she completed the thought, the talisman's weight made her hand drop, and she felt the energy siphoning off again.

"Carly?" Sookie called out to her. "What are you doing out here?"

"Long story, Sookie," Carly answered and then checked her hands again to make sure that she wasn't alight.

"Can we join you?" Godric asked.

"Um," Carly hesitated before answering, "I don't know Godric. I just had an episode like the one in your library."

"Then we will wait for you in the house," Godric replied. "Sookie, after you."

Sookie ignored Godric's caution and said, "What are you two talking about? Are you okay, Carly?"

Bounding toward Carly, Sookie giggled as she pushed aside branches and leaves. "I didn't peg you as a girl who'd like the woods."

"You'd be surprised, Sookie," Carly responded, "but I think Godric's right. We should go back inside."

"Don't be silly. I grew up in these woods," Sookie countered. Just as she finished speaking, Sookie stumbled over a root.

Carly caught her before she hit the ground, but when they touched, they both began to glow. "Sookie," Carly said, "don't freak out."

"What the hell?" Sookie pulled her hand away from Carly, and the glow slowly faded. "What is that?"

"Fairy life energy, I think," Carly shrugged, "but it might be something else."

"Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea," Sookie cried out as Godric shot next to her, and she fainted dead away.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A/N Lots of family drama in this one. Even though I'm playing with Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris's toys, I intend no copy-right infringement.

"Sookie," Godric whispered to her as he carried her toward the farmhouse, "you should be fine once we get you some water."

"What happened?" Sookie's voice croaked as she regained consciousness.

"You came up on me while I was in the middle of something, Sookie," Carly said, "and you got a shock."

"You're not telling me the truth," Sookie said quietly. "What are you keeping from me, Carly?"

Godric and Carly exchanged glances, and Carly replied, "We'll talk more when you get in the house."

"We better," Sookie sighed and closed her eyes again.

As they approached the porch, Carly wondered how she could make Sookie understand what happened without disclosing too much to her, or whether the energy had, as Niall suggeted, changed the two women in some way. Had the energy awakened the fairy within the two women? Or were they the same as they were?

Godric settled Sookie onto the sofa and directed Carly to get a glass of water for the depleted young woman.

When Carly entered the kitchen, Adele turned and asked, "Everything okay, Carly?"

"Um," Carly pointed toward the sink, "Sookie needs a glass of water. She took a little spill out in the woods."

"Oh dear," Adele exclaimed, "does she need a bandage or an ice pack?" Adele dried her hands quickly on her apron and scurried over to a cupboard for a glass, which she filled with ice and topped off with tap water.

Hurrying out into the parlor, Adele brought Sookie the glass of water, and fussed over her grand-daughter. "Are you all right, honey?"

"I'm fine, Gran," Sookie smiled weakly, "I just got a little dizzy after I tripped. Carly and Godric kept me from really hurting myself." After a sip of water, Sookie sat up straighter and said, "I'm feeling better already. I just need to talk to Carly for a few minutes, if that's okay?"

"Of course, Sookie," Adele passed her hands over Sookie's arms and legs quickly. "You don't have any scrapes."

"May I help you in the kitchen, Mrs. Stackhouse," Godric took Adele's hand lightly. "Perhaps we should give them a little privacy for a moment. I doubt either has been able to seek counsel from one so like them. They should be able to confer for a few minutes without an audience, yes?"

Adele patted Godric's hand. "You're right, Godric. If you're okay, Sookie, I'll just get back to the kitchen. I do have a few heavy pans that need rinsing, Godric."

Carly brought a chair up beside Sookie, so that they could hold hands and communicate silently. As they touched, the connection fired to life and the communication began without hesitation or mediation.

..._not telling me, I know that I'm different, but what was going on there, out there, why out there in the woods, my woods, like she was looking for something..._

_Sookie, I can hear you. You may hear thoughts, but I am different than you. Remember I said that we both hear thoughts, but for different reasons?_

_Yeah, _Sookie affirmed quietly_, I guess I'm a fairy, right? A fairy...if I'm a fairy, am I gonna start sparkling or flying or lighting up like Tinkerbell?_

_I don't know, Sookie. _Carly chipped away at the barriers in her mind, so that she could disclose more information to Sookie. _But I was in your woods because I'm a valkyrie, and I sense the energy left behind when people die..._

"What?" Sookie said volubly. "What the hell is that?"

_Sookie, please, be quiet. This is hard for me. Only a few people know what I am, although too many know that I can hear what people are thinking. _

_I'm sorry, Carly. That wasn't really fair of me, was it?_

"Don't beat yourself up, Sookie," Carly reassured. _I'm not entirely human, either. My father was very old...so old he was there when Eric became a vampire._

"Cheese and rice," Sookie blew out a big breath in amazement. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm just as amazed, believe me." _So it started with my hearing thoughts and having dreams when I handled people's bones. So it turns out that the dreams came from the energy left over on the bones. I take in the energy from death and transform it into life energy and release it into the world._

"That's crazy!"

"Yes, Sookie, it is." Carly smiled widely and then began laughing. "If you had told me any of this six months ago, I would probably say that you were crazy. And I've spent most of my life thinking I was holding onto sanity by a thread."

"Me too," Sookie agreed. _So what were you doing in the woods?_

_I sensed death energy..._

_...how does that work?_

_It's like the heat that rises from the pavement in the summer, distortions—I can see it, and then I move into it and take it in. But this energy came from fairies—and I think that..._

_Fairies died in our woods?_

_I don't know, Sookie. But when I take in energy from fairies, I have to release it back to the fairies—_Carly pulled the talisman from her pocket. _This sends it there, but it got overloaded._

Sookie pushed her legs over, so she returned to vertical. _If it can only go into fairies, then why did we both light up?_

_This is the complicated part, Sookie. One of my mother's ancestors was a fairy, so that's why I can deal with their energy. And, well, it went into you, because..._

"I'm a fairy," Sookie said. "But it made me pass out?"

"For a minute," Carly consoled, "and you seem fine now."

"Yeah, I guess so." _But could it make me more of a fairy than I already was?_

"Maybe." _A fairy told me that I might display additional abilities with more exposure to the energy and to other fairies. But I don't really know what that means._

_Do you know what fairies can do?_

"No, not a clue, although I'm guessing interdimensional travel is one piece of it." Carly smiled broadly and started to laugh.

"Well," Sookie laughed along with her, "I guess that might come in handy at some point."

The sound of a large vehicle crunching along the driveway captured their attention, and Carly and Sookie moved to the door, where they met Godric.

"My child has returned, Adele," Godric called into the kitchen. "Please excuse me while I confer with him."

Jason also moved toward the door. "Let me point y'all in the right direction. There's a good spot over by the septic spout where it's good and level." Jumping down the steps in one bound, Jason gestured Yevgeny toward the parking spot, as if he were a airport navigator, while Eric pulled up in a graveled area near the front door.

Within a second, Eric was out of the car and in front of Carly, grasping her arms. "Are you all right?"

Godric took a look at the lovers' embrace and zoomed off to help Yevgeny get situated.

"I'm fine," Carly touched Eric's cheek in reassurance. "I just got a little overloaded."

Eric leaned his forehead against Carly's and inhaled deeply. "You've been among fairies again, lover."

"Dead ones," Carly replied. "There's some sort of doorway, or portal, over there." Pointing toward the woods, Carly indicated the spot where she'd become overwhelmed with energy. "The waves are just as strong as they were, and I processed a lot."

"Please, don't go over there again alone." Eric leaned down to meet her eyes. "Promise me you won't." Caging her before him within his long arms, Eric nuzzled into her neck, breathing deeply in and out in a hypnotic rhythm.

"I'll wait for you," Carly agreed, "because Sookie can't go with me." Responding to Eric's growing rigidity, Carly sighed before adding, "She got some of the overflow, and I don't know what it will do to her."

Godric returned to the house, accompanied by Jason. "Yevgeny will be here shortly, after he finishes the connections."

"Sookie," Jason ran to his sister's side. "That dude is big. I mean really big! Like a bear."

"Indeed," Godric agreed, "he is a bear. If you see a bear in your woods, please do not shoot it. Yevgeny will avoid you when he is in his animal form, but he will likely defend himself if attacked."

Jason and Sookie stared at the vampire, their mouths half open in amazement. Finally, Jason started to chuckle. "You got me man. So he doesn't like using the toilet. I get that. He's a big guy."

"No, Mr. Stackhouse. Yevgeny changes form." Godric continued without changing expression, "You might call him a wer-bear, as in a werewolf."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Jason," Godric smiled. "I believe the saying is 'as serious as a heart attack.'"

"Well, fuck me," Jason said under his breath. "Vampires, fairies, and bears. Oh my!"

After chuckling, Eric said, "You're not quite as dumb as you seem, are you Stackhouse?"

"Eric!" Carly elbowed her vampire. "Don't be mean."

"Yeah, man, don't be an asshole." Jason stalked off into the house, insulted.

Sookie half-heartedly defended her brother. "Please, Jason's not the sharpest tack, but he's a good man."

"I believe you. Nevertheless, your brother will be closely monitored until the threat against your family is neutralized, Sookie," Godric addressed her, before turning to glare slightly at his progeny. "My child has a tendency to tease, Sookie. Please do not take offense, although he is anything but harmless."

"No," Eric whispered into Carly's ear, but loud enough for all to hear, "not harmless at all. Quite strong and demanding, I believe."

Carly pitched her hips backward to register her annoyance, but Eric just pushed forward to assert his arousal. "Stop, Eric," Carly laughed as Eric kissed behind her ear.

"I can't help it, Carly, you smell," he licked her, "and taste, like fairies."

"Yes," Godric agreed, "you are both immensely distracting."

Sookie backed up a few steps. "What do you mean?"

Eric answered. "If you were around any other vampires, you wouldn't be standing. Neither of you."

"Stop scaring Sookie, Eric!" Carly pushed herself from Eric's grip and turned to confront him. "You can't say things like that and expect her to laugh it off, Eric." Taking Sookie's hand, Carly thought toward Sookie. _Most of the time, vampires can't resist fairies. They attack them and drain them. Both of us smell different than other human beings, Carly, and vampires find us attractive as a result. Eric and Godric have committed to protecting you, so they can resist the impulse. I guess we smell stronger after having consumed the energy—and keeping hold of it._

Sookie looked down at her feet and then played with her fingernails. Finally, she addressed Godric. "So I'm extra attractive to vampires."

With a brief smile, Godric said, "I am afraid so, but you are remarkable just because of who you are."

"Thanks," Sookie said weakly, "but I don't really believe you."

Reducing the space between their faces to mere centimeters, Godric said, "I will make you believe me, Sookie, before long."

_Carly, he's scaring me. Please, tell him he's scaring me. _Sookie's mind cried out, even though her face remained impassive.

_Sookie, he means it. He really, really likes you—he doesn't want to hurt you._

"Godric," Carly spoke quietly, trying to address Sookie's concerns without offending her friend, "I think that Sookie isn't accustomed to positive attention."

"Then you live among," Godric paused, "fools." With one smooth gesture, Godric raised his hand and moved an errant hair from in front of Sookie's eye. "You are extraordinary, and you shall believe that completely before I leave here."

In a whisper, Sookie said, "Thank you, Godric."

Eric grasped Carly's hand and pulled her to him roughly. "Carly," Eric nearly growled. "I left something heavy in the RV. Come help me fetch it."

Directing her thoughts toward Eric with as much focus as she could, Carly chastised. _No, Eric, control yourself._ _I'm hungry, and I'm not going to go fool around with you right now._

Eric pulled her hard towards him, so their bodies collided as he stretched her arm to its full length. His fangs popped out and he bared them to her. "I'm hungry too, Carly." The intensity of his ravenous gaze brought a blush to her cheeks.

"Damn you, vampire," Carly scowled at Eric. "Will blood be enough?"

"It's never enough." The roughness in his voice contrasted with the soft breaths he released against her arm. For a moment, Carly was tempted, until she heard Sookie again.

_How many times a day does he want sex?_

Laughing loudly and heartily, Carly turned and said, "The real question is how many times a day does he want something other than sex."

"Never," Eric smiled and winked at Sookie, "but I guess I'll have to wait until later."

"Perhaps much later, my child." Godric began walking into the house proper before adding, "I fear for our safety in such small quarters."

Out of nowhere, Carly heard, "Yevgeny sleep in trees. But hungry now." Yevgeny, carrying a grocery bag that Carly presumed contained Adele's order, strolled past them, and Carly heard the floor-boards strain beneath him.

"My lord," Adele cried out, "I'm so sorry, where are my manners." As Carly and a pouting Eric returned to the kitchen, Adele was shaking Yevgeny's hand, startled by the man's size. "I should have had you pick up some more chicken for tonight, but I'll make due. Thank you for picking this stuff up for me. Now, what's your name, dear?"

Blankly, Yevgeny turned to Godric and said something long and involved in Russian. Godric replied, and then said, "He asks that you call him Jenya, because you remind him of his grandmother, and that is what she calls him."

"Well, that's so sweet, Jenya." Adele patted the huge man on the forearm, and then said, "Jason, you better go get your grand-daddy's big chair down from the attic for Jenya. I don't think any of the others will hold him."

"It's hard for me even to carry that thing, Gran," Jason whined.

"Carry," Yevgeny pointed to his own chest.

"Your English isn't so bad, Jenya." Adele complimented the Russian on his comprehension and then grabbed Jason and drew him over. "You follow Jason and you can fetch that big chair."

"Da," Jenya nodded to Adele and then pushed Jason forward.

"Not so rough there, man," Jason stumbled around the table and rushed up the stairs, with Yevgeny plodding behind him.

"That man could guard half a dozen bodies or more!" Adele laughed and returned to cooking, pulling a caserole out of the oven and lifting the lid on a cast iron dutch oven. "We've got fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and greens, so I hope that's enough."

Carly's stomach rumbled audibly, and Eric said, "I guess you weren't lying, lover."

"No, I wasn't."

"That's what I like to hear. Too many women are afraid to eat these days, and they just whither away to nothing." Adele launched into her cultural critique while stirring the greens. "Eric and Godric, you'll find a leaf for the table behind the water heater. Please put it in for me. Hadley and Sookie, set the table."

"What can I do, Adele?" Carly asked.

"Wait and be grateful," Adele turned to Carly. "You gave me back my oldest granddaughter, so I'm going to spoil you a little tonight."

"Thank you, Adele, but Hadley wanted to come home." Carly tried to recall the night she exerted her influence on Hadley, wondering if she were now telling the truth. Perhaps this was how vampires justified glamouring. Once they bent others to their will, theirs was the only truth they had ever known. Of course, Hadley wanted to come home, reunite with her family, stay clean, get an education, and be more than just a blood donor, because that was what Carly wanted for her.

As Carly examined the two young Stackhouse women, she wondered what Godric intended toward Sookie, because he did seem to have the same single-minded attention for Sookie that Pam reported seeing in Eric. Melissa, who desperately wanted to develop a relationship with Godric, appeared to be nothing more than a business associate and a permanent donor. Carly still remembered how coolly Godric contemplated Melissa's nearly lifeless body the night they met in Fangtasia. That vision of Godric—heartless killer and manipulator—still haunted Carly at times. But the moment he saw Sookie, it was as if the winds of life inflated the sails of a becalmed ship.

No matter what, Carly realized she could only manage one romantic relationship with a vampire—her own. Sookie needed to be free to make her own decisions, good and bad.

Once the table was outfittled with an additional leaf and headed by Yevgeny's massive oaken chair, Adele began plating up the food for the human guests. Once every plate was full of southern comfort food, Adele looked at Godric and Eric and gasped.

"Oh dear, this won't do at all." Adele muttered and then scrambled about the kitchen to retrieve the bottled blood. "Do these need a glass?"

Carly jumped up and said, "Adele, let me do this. You sit down. Just point me to a saucepan."

"You can microwave it, Carly," Eric suggested. "I don't know why you're so rigid about using an external heater."

"Because it just doesn't make any sense chemically or physically, Eric, that's why," Carly responded, somewhat testily. "And, you say that it tastes even worse when it's microwaved."

"To be honest, Eric," Adele cocked her head sideways, "my microwave hasn't worked in three years. It's a fancy bread-box nowadays." Adele pulled a large sauce pan and lid out of a cabinet. "Here you go, Carly."

"Friends," Godric addressed the group, "my sheriff and I appreciate your hospitality, but please do not wait for our meal to heat." With a tip of his chin, Godric indicated Carly. "You as well, my dear. You need to eat. I can wait for the water to boil."

While the Stackhouses, Carly, and Yevgeny, ate their meal with voluble appreciation, Godric watched Sookie. Finally, after heating the blood and serving a bottle to Eric, Sookie reached out to Carly.

_Why does Godric keep watching me eat, Carly? It's strange._

Resolving once again not to allow herself to become Pandarus to Cressida and her vampire Troilus, Carly thought, _Ask him. Or start a conversation with him._

_He won't be offended?_

_Just talk to him, Sookie. You two had a wonderful conversation earlier. I don't know why you're frightened of him suddenly. You knew he was a vampire when you were getting along so well at Merlotte's._

Carly watched as Sookie summoned her courage, wiped her mouth, and spoke. "So Godric, you don't have a problem serving other people? Shouldn't a king have servants?"

"When I am at my home, I have assistants," Godric answered Sookie, but addressed the table as a whole," but I spent my earliest life doing all for myself, and then I cared for my child, until he was old enough to fend for himself."

"Godric was an extraordinary parent," Eric smiled. "I believe I turned out to be a strapping young man."

Adele laughed, "Well, I'm grateful that you let us get to eating, Godric. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started eating."

"How often do y'all have to eat," Jason asked through a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. "One of those bottles don't look like much. Is that gonna be enough for tonight, or should we go get some more?"

Eric stretched and shook the bottle slightly. "Godric and I drink this just to be sociable. Neither of us needs to drink that often. Godric much less frequently than I."

"We shall fare just fine with what we have in the RV, Jason." With a smile, Godric said, "We will not need to supplement with any other nourishment while we are here."

"That's reassuring." Adele noticed Yevgeny's empty plate. "Jenya, you want some more?"

"Da, Baba Stackhouse, please, yes." Yevgeny covered his mouth and then patted his belly, "Very good noddles."

"I just noticed we don't have a beer-" Jason rose and asked, "Yevgeny, you want a beer?" his voice ten decibels higher than normal.

Yevgeny didn't reply, but looked once again to Godric, who translated. "Peeva, Yevgeny."

The bear shook his head to signal no and then continued in Russian. At the end of his sentence, Godric and Eric laughed heartily.

"What?" Sookie looked back and forth between the vampires. "What's so funny?"

Godric spoke again in Russian, and Yevgeny shook his head vigorously, while Eric took a sip of blood, wearing an amused smirk.

"Sookie, Yevgeny would prefer that we keep what we say from you. He fears that you, your cousin, and grandmother would be offended." Godric took Sookie's hand gently. "He wishes that you only think well of him, as do I."

Sookie gazed into the vampire's eyes long enough to make the other dinner guests uncomfortable. Eric finally inserted, "Additionally, what's funny in Russian is rarely funny in any other language. Russia is not known for exporting comedians, at least not ethnic Russian comedians."

Conversation about place of origin, family histories, and recent travels continued through dessert. Adele's apple pie, Carly thought, was nearly as good as her macaroni and cheese, which she feared might cure her of any possible immortality. As they finished dessert off with a cup of decaffeinated coffee, Carly asked, "So where do you shop for clothes around Bon Temps?"

"We have to go out to the Walmart near Clarice, usually," Sookie said.

"There's a little consignment shop in town that has nice things too," Adele added. "Why?"

Carly groaned appreciatively and said, "I think I may need new pants, Adele. Or I need to run a thousand miles before breakfast."

"Then I owe you my thanks, Adele," Eric interrupted, wrapping an arm around Carly's shoulders, "because she could use an extra twenty pounds."

"These girls are all trying to be so skinny, aren't they, Eric," Adele agreed. "I don't know why. Seems like they all want to look like fourteen year old boys."

"Indeed," Godric agreed, again looking at Sookie, who had started washing dishes.

"May we take out the leaf?" Godric followed up.

Adele shook her head. "No, we'll need it for supper tomorrow, if you're still around." Straightening her wedding ring, Adele said, "I fear we've never actually discussed what you'll be doing around here."

Eric's and Godric's eyes met, and then Godric answered. "Tonight, we will examine the properties in the area that have sold recently. Carly will accompany us, so we will investigate until she tires."

Yevgeny stood, as if on cue. "I change now." He took Adele's hand sweetly and kissed it, inspiring a laugh. "Thank you, Baba Stackhouse."

Adele patted his hand again and said, "I'll see you in the morning, Jenya. Just come in when you smell the coffee."

As Yevgeny approached the door, he looked at Godric and spoke in Russian once again.

"Yevgeny asks," Godric said slowly, as if an accurate translation escaped him, "that you refrain from shooting any bears in the woods."

"My lord," Adele cackled, "we haven't had a bear out there ever that I heard. I would certainly shoot it if it came too close to the house!"

"No, Gran," Jason said quickly, "you can't. You can't shoot any bears out there tonight, or while they're here."

Adele crossed her arms. "I don't know why you're asking me not to protect my property or my grand-children."

"Jenya bear," Yevgeny tapped himself on chest. "Please no shoot Jenya, Baba Stackhouse."

"I would never shoot you, Jenya," Adele smiled, "why would you think that? You're such a nice boy."

Yevgeny shook his head and muttered in Russian, before saying, "I turn into bear, Baba Stackhouse. You see in minute. I return, bear."

The Russian ducked and darted out of the screen door off the kitchen and headed toward the RV, while Adele turned to Godric. "Now, does he really mean that he's gonna go turn himself into a bear?"

"Yes, Adele." Godric said quietly. "I am very glad that you are sitting right now. Yevgeny changes his form to that of a bear. When you see him again, he will be in that form."

"So I had dinner tonight with," Adele began to giggle, "three part-fairies, two vampires, and a were-"

"Bear," Godric finished. "Yes, a were-bear."

"So that means," Adele's laughter continued, even more fervently, "that there are were-wolves somewhere out there?"

"Yes," Carly nodded. "And shape-shifters who can turn into any kind of animal."

"There are many shape-shifting creatures, actually," Eric added professorially. "In my time, I have encountered tigers, panthers, lions, and seals as well."

A low growl resonated outside the kitchen window, and Adele ran to the sink, standing with her arms around her grand-daughters. Yevgeny, as bear, stood on his hind legs and tipped his snout at Adele through the window. As excited as a child, she asked Godric, "Can I touch him?"

"If you wish," Godric assented readily. "I doubt Yevgeny would mind, he seems very fond of you."

Grabbing her grand-daughters' hands, Adele rushed to the porch door, followed by Jason, now on his fourth beer, Carly, and the two vampires.

The three Stackhouse women stood outside on the gravel, staring at Yevgeny, who now sat on his haunches, occasionally grunting at them.

"Jenya, can I give you a little pat?" Adele requested, approaching the bear.

Yevgeny lowered his head, extending his neck, clearly signifying that Adele could approach safely. As the old woman pet the bear, Adele said, "What a wondrous world!"

Sookie approached at the same time and began scratching between Yevgeny's eyes. "I can't believe it. You were a man just a few minutes ago, you big bear. I never thought I'd ever for the life of me meet someone who could do such a thing."

As she finished the sentence, Sookie's head snapped toward Carly, who had let her shields fall while she held hands with Eric.

_What, Carly? What about Sam?_

"Shit," Carly said audibly, before quickly apologizing, "Sorry about the language, Adele."

"If any situation would merit a little free speech, this is it, dear," Adele soothed.

"No, Gran," Sookie faced off with Carly. "Tell me what you know, Carly."

_Sam is a shape-shifter, Sookie. I'm sorry. I didn't want to share his secret, but it just bubbled up to the top._

"How long have you known this, Carly?" Sookie demanded, her voice full of betrayal and accusation.

Carly refused to conceal anything further. "Since I met him, Sookie."

"He's got some things to answer for," Sookie stomped into the house, slamming the porch door after her. Hadley and Jason followed after quickly.

"Oh, boy." Carly embraced Eric and said, "She's pissed at me and Merlotte."

Kissing her on the forehead, Eric replied, "She will need to get over it, lover." Eric pushed Carly from his grasp and said, "What do you sense from Yevgeny in this form?"

"You know I don't speak Russian, Eric," Carly shook her head. "I don't know if it will be different. Doesn't he think like a human when he's a bear?"

Yevgeny grunted loudly and laid his head between his paws.

"Perhaps that's a no." Carly walked toward the bear with her hand extended. As soon as her fingers found skin, Yevgeny's mind bombarded her with images, smells, and sensations that were linked to human memories, but they were non-verbal memories. Yevgeny had taken a quick trot through the woods and come upon the portal. His sensations of it were entirely different than Carly's. Moreover, he smelled the scent of at least three different vampires just in the woods he'd tramped through. One, he recognized.

"Compton has been in these woods, Godric," Carly concentrated, because she knew that Yevgeny was trying to share information about dates. Finally, she realized that Yevgeny's memories were linked to major weather events and sports events that he'd observed. "He was here two months ago, many times."

"I know that," Godric replied, apparently non-plussed by the information. "Does he sense any other vampires?"

"Two," Carly answered, "much more recently. Within the last two weeks, I think. And their scents are the same age, but he doesn't know them."

"Excellent," Godric complimented. "You are both invaluable assets to my retinue." Godric walked slowly toward Adele, who was still contemplating Yevgeny in awe. "Adele, I believe that Yevgeny should patrol these woods so that we can ensure your safety while we investigate."

"Master," Eric interrupted, "Perhaps you should stay here with the Stackhouses, while Carly and I examine the properties. Or we could alternate. I don't know if you overheard Sookie, but we may need to keep Yevgeny contained when her friend arrives."

Godric nodded, before petting Yevgeny between his eyes. "Given his behavior at the bar, I believe Merlotte is the greater risk of the two. He clearly disapproved of my interest in Sookie."

"You have my blessing, by the way," Adele grasped Godric's forearm. "I don't think I could meet anyone more..."

"What, Adele?" Godric smiled as he awaited her answer.

"Well, anything, than you." Adele kissed him on the cheek quickly before adding, "Please, just be good to her and keep her safe."

"That is my plan." Godric crossed his right arm over his breast and lowered his head respectfully. "I vow that to you, even if she will not be mine, I shall treat her as if she is."

After patting the vampire's cheek maternally and smiling at both Carly and Eric, Adele announced, "I better see what kind of trouble my grand-daughter's trying to bring down on herself."

"You're serious about her, Godric?" Eric asked. "You have never taken a pet."

"Neither have you, my child, and I do not intend to start." Godric moved toward Carly and took both of her hands into his own. "The two of you have shown me it is possible, truly, to take a mate, a companion. And this is what I wish to have." With a sly smirk, he added, "Without the conflagrations, of course. I cannot wish to gain so many gifts by taking a woman into my heart." Godric released her right hand and grasped Eric's. "You two have given me hope of love, which I long set aside, even before my human life ended. I learned to substitute a love of justice for love, but now realize I may have both."

Eric knelt and said, "You are a most excellent king, my beloved maker."

Godric pulled him back to standing, kissing him on the forehead as he rose. "My viking always loved shows of filial piety that I have never demanded." He kissed Carly as well, before sending them off. "The list and a topographical map are in RV in my bag, along with the harness I told you about for Carly."

"Harness?" Carly exclaimed, slightly horrified, before Eric dashed off with her in his arms.

When they reached the RV, Carly squealed. "What the hell is going on, Eric? What are the two of you up to?"

"Just a little fun," Eric tweaked her nose and entered the RV. "And Godric wanted you to feel secure as we traveled. He was inspired by one of those Baby Bjorns."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

After Eric removed the map and list of properties from Godric's old leather bag, he pulled out a webbing harness with buckles and a large pad that looked somewhat like a diaper.

"Get your jacket, and then put this on," Eric directed Carly's legs into what looked like a rock-climbing harness, only with supports for arms as well.

"Is this for carrying me on your back?"

Eric quickly buckled additional supports around his own waist, chest, and arms, and then lifted her up and exited the RV. "You hold onto the map once we know where we're going, okay?"

"We're not driving, are we?" Carly finally realized, after the intial shock wore off that the harness allowed Eric to use his hands freely as he flew or ran.

"Nope," Eric shook his head. "Hand me the map and the list."

When Eric handed it back to her, she stuffed it into her jacket and zipped it up all the way she could.

"Are you ready?"

"I guess, as long as you promise to let me out of this contraption once we're there."

"I was hoping I could just turn myself around and have a little fun," Eric clicked his tongue at her and added, "Since I can't wink."

"You're incorrigible."

"Entirely," Eric said, getting the last word, before he took off toward the eastern horizon.

The first property they approached appeared inhabited, with innumerable cars in various states of repair and disrepair arranged tidily around the property. As Eric began to descend, horses started neighing loudly within the stables. Eric rose again rapidly and reoriented himself at the furthest edge of the property and landed within a stand of trees.

"Is this too far for you to hear," Eric fell to his knees so that Carly could support her own weight.

"Let me try." Carly concentrated on the farm-house, which sat about a football field's distance away from where they hid. Her mind focused within the structure and held fast to the first mind she encountered...

_I really want one of them Wiis for Christmas. I hope momma and daddy get one for me. I really love Mario Cart, so much cleaner than the real go cart daddy wants me to make with him. I just don't like grease on my hands..._

Abandoning the preadolescent boy, Carly groped around for another mind in the house. _If that man thinks his whole fucking tribe's gonna come over here for dinner with me doing all the work on Thanksgiving, then he can just take a turkey and stuff it up one of his damned tailpipes out there, because I'll be damned..._

Momma wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving. Carly just wanted to get to Halloween and this family was already planning on Thanksgiving and Christmas. She doubted that they had kidnapped fairies trapped in a basement, but she kept looking.

No other minds spoke to her from the house, so she searched the other buildings. The stable included two horses, but they didn't belong to the immediate family. They were boarded there by two little girls who were distantly related. Carly located a garage just beyond the house and sent tentacles of consciousness into the corners of the building. She finally found an oil pit and its occupant.

_So hot...damn Marion used to look like this with big tits that I could stick in my mouth, always wanted to …_

The occupant in the oil pit was masturbating, staring at a magazine and comparing the photo to his wife, now in the house cursing his name. Carly searched over the rest of the property, small outbuildings and cars, and found nothing but a few cats and one very lonely dog.

"Nothing here, Eric." Carly whispered.

"Do you know how long that took, lover?"

"No, why?"

"Three minutes, Carly."

Exhaling her shock, Carly said, "Really? It seemed a lot longer."

Carly passed Eric the map, and then they progressed to the next property, whose residents were equally human and banal, although more numerous.

By the fifth property, Carly's energy began to flag. "Can we be finished, Eric? My head is starting to hurt, and I'm getting thirsty."

"I can give you a big drink, if you'd like." Eric teased. "I think that tree sap does wonders for your hair."

"Ugh," Carly groaned. "Just let me get something to drink, my sweet sex maniac."

Becoming serious again, Eric conceded, "We've done half of them, so I think we can take a break. We still haven't searched the properties immediately around Sookie's house to make sure there are no other vampires nearby." Eric struck out for the sky and within minutes they were disconnecting the harness, and Carly was trying to regain her balance. In all, they'd been gone a little less than two hours.

Carly grabbed a bottle of water from the RV's refrigerator and sucked it down quickly in her thirst. As they walked toward the house, Carly could hear Sookie's mind crying out loudly and sorrowfully.

_Why did he have to be so ugly to me? And to Godric? And I can't believe those things he was thinking about Eric, and to think about that in front of Gran! That can't be true, Carly wouldn't spend time with a womanizer and a murderer. And Godric can't be a killer—he's too kind, he's too kind to me. He says he wants me to be his, and I just feel so loved when he looks at me. Never felt that way except for Gran. Even Jason doesn't trust me...If Sam cares so much about me, why has he never said anything. If anyone has a filthy mind, filthy womanizing mind, it's Sam. He's always staring at Dawn's tits and Arlene's ass, even when she's pregnant...has that picture of slutty Dawn up on the wall._

"This isn't good, Eric," Carly grabbed Eric's hand to quiet out Sookie's thoughts, which were screaming out to her across the property. "Sookie's really upset. I guess Sam's been here."

"Smells like dog," Eric agreed.

"You don't like him, do you?"

"As a rule, shifters are not to be trusted, because they can always escape." When Eric wanted to sound like a teacher, he could, in all the condescension that the best and worst teachers can express. "Moreover, Merlotte has a checkered past he has done much to conceal. Although little can be concealed from me." Eric pinched Carly's behind as if to punctuate the remark.

"Will you cut it out!" Carly rubbed her temples. "Please, Sookie's so upset, it's like she's screaming right at me. Just hold my hand—dampen it a little bit."

"I'm sorry, lover." Eric grasped her left hand tightly with his own and wrapped his right arm around her shoulders. "I'm right here with you, my darling."

They entered the house, and Carly startled slightly at the scene. Godric, Hadley, and Adele were seated in a little triangle, talking and chuckling. It appeared as if Godric were holding court and telling humorous anecdotes, which Carly admitted she did enjoy on the rare occasions that he shared them. Too frequently, circumstances were such that she could only hear the sad or the tragic.

Jason snored on the couch, and Sookie sat tightly bound up in a high backed arm-chair, apparently listening to Godric, but silent, with a strangely artificial smile plastered across her face.

Eric helped Carly cross the threshold, but she still stumbled. After two steps, Carly cried out, "Sookie, for the love of God, stop it!"

Sookie broke out of whatever fugue she was in and ran toward Carly, who was falling to her knees. "Carly?"

When the silence opened up in Carly's mind, she sighed loudly. "Thank god you stopped screaming, Sookie. Why were you so loud?"

Godric expressed concern. "Carly, Sookie has just been listening to us talk. She has said barely two words since her friend Sam departed earlier."

Carly winced as Sookie's inner monologue began anew.

_If he knew the things that he thought about Eric and you, you wouldn't even be able to say his name. And if what he was thinking was true, you would have killed him right there and then for what he was thinking about Gran..._

"What was he thinking about your grandmother, Sookie!" Carly nearly screamed. "Please, just out with it, why the hell was it so bad?"

Sookie paled and muttered, "I could never repeat it."

"Then just send me the image, for god's sake!" Carly grabbed Sookie's hand and saw a flash of Eric feasting upon and fucking Sookie's grandmother while Sookie was chained to a wall, naked, looking on. In the vision, Jason, wearing a dog collar, was petting Eric's behind longingly.

"Yeah, that's gross," Carly agreed, "but Eric's no angel, Sookie. You can't think that they're harmless, just because they've promised to protect you. I'm pretty sure Eric was a huge slut before I came into the picture."

"The hugest," Eric agreed. "But not anymore. Not because I've changed, just because it's all for Carly now."

"You're not helping again, Eric," Carly chastised, with a smile on her face. His humor, although occasionally inappropriate, lightened the weight of Sookie's sorrow on her.

"It's true." Eric raised Carly to standing and placed his hand over her hip possessively. "I've been trying to get you alone and unoccupied for the last four hours."

"Sookie," Godric entered the discussion, "you showed no signs of distress after the shifter's departure. Have you been suffering this whole time?"

A few small tears ran down Sookie's face before she cried out, "Yes. I've been miserable. I was never able to hear him so clearly before, and he just said the most hateful things to you."

"He was polite and respectful, Sookie," Godric corrected. "Although I sensed distrust from him, he said nothing that was not honorable."

"Then he thought it!" As Sookie's crying grew more intense, Jason finally roused from his stupor, to see Godric embrace Sookie.

"Sook," Jason spoke numbly, "why you letting that vampire hang all over you?"

"Shut up, you're drunk," Sookie yelled at her brother. "Why do you care, anyway!"

Carly moaned again as another wave of angry thoughts hit her.

_Since when do you care who touches me, Jason Stackhouse, all you ever cared about were your damn fishing trips. And since she's been back, now I know he hurt Hadley too, and bad, worse than he ever did me. What kind of big brother are you when some pervert can buy your love for a fishing pole!_

"Sookie," Carly started to cry, "you have to say these things out loud. It's hurting me too much."

"Let's get you out of here, Carly," Eric picked his beloved up off the floor and walked back out toward the RV.

Even within the confines of the RV, Sookie's screams still shook Carly, and she wept, and panted, until Eric started to growl.

"I'm going to drain her if this doesn't stop—at least glamour her to get her to stop hurting you."

"No, Eric, I'm sure you can't glamour her—I'm sure she's like me, that she's resistant." Carly grabbed her head and rolled from side to side. "You have to get her to say these things instead of just holding them in, or you have to fly me somewhere. I can't handle it."

Eric rushed out of the RV and zoomed back to the house. In addition to Sookie's rage and sorrow, Carly felt both Eric's and Godric's attempts to soothe her, all for naught. Frustration rose in Eric's portion of their bond, compounded by Godric's worry, which suddenly all broke, leaving Carly free from pain. As sleep began to take her over, Eric appeared beside her.

"Godric is angry, but Sookie seems to have quieted."

"Why?" Grogginess obscured Carly's comprehension. "Why is Godric angry with Sookie?"

"No, with her brother, and an uncle, named Bartlett."

"The molester..." Carly trailed off.

"Yes."

"He can't kill him," Carly said in a whisper. "That will just prove the shifter right."

"I agree." Eric carried Carly into the king-sized bed in the rear of the vehicle and began to undress her. "I will not misuse you, Carly. I hope that you know that."

"Mm-hm," Carly agreed, overcome with drowsiness. "You've only been a sex addict for a 1000 years."

Laughing, Eric curled up beside Carly. "Indeed, lover. But now you are my only addiction—blood, body, and soul."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Walks through damp forests, damp with blood, the leavings of horrific hand-to-hand combat, plagued Carly's fitful sleep. Although the bodies were all gone, the ground was saturated, sticky with stretched, congealed gore that stuck to her feet as she trudged, desperately seeking a return to the comfort of Eric's embrace or the shelter of Friagabi's cave.

Unlike other dreams, in this one Carly was herself, and she felt a peculiarly visceral agony as she walked into the early morning glow. The sun had not yet risen, but was imminent, skulking just over the horizon, as if it concealed itself from witnesses who might see its return home.

As the sun crossed the boundary between night and day, the blood began to sizzle and boil beneath her toes, until the death-dreck that covered her lower extremities, along with all else, burst into vicious flames.

She awoke in agony, screaming, with tears streaming down her face. When she finally gathered her faculties enough to sense where she was, she realized that she was safe-cloaked in deep, unrelenting darkness-flanked on either side by cool vampire bodies. Eric-naked, as was his favored state- held her in a tight embrace while Godric lay fully dressed beside her, his arms over his abdomen.

Carly felt that Godric was near consciousness before he spoke.

"Are you better, child?" Godric asked before he rolled to face her. "Your suffering troubled me greatly."

"I hope you didn't feel it.'

"No, Carly. The knowledge you suffered pained me," Godric responded compassionately, "and that I could soothe neither you nor Sookie frustrated me."

"I think I'm okay." Carly paused to feel for Sookie's, and felt the presence of four dreaming humans in the farmhouse and one cranky were-bear immediately outside the RV.

"She finally calmed after her brother threw himself on her mercy," Godric reported, " and promised to confront the uncle before ceasing contact with him."

"I'm glad they dealt with it." Carly felt overpowering remorse for having revealed so many secrets in one night. "I hope Sookie doesn't hate me, especially since we need to protect her."

"She expressed gratitude, Carly, sincere gratitude."

"And Adele?"

Godric chuckled before placing his hand on Carly's cheek. "Wishes to adopt you. She asked if your mother might visit her as well."

With a hearty laugh, Carly said, "Talk about when worlds collide!"

"I doubt you have any resentment to fear from the Stackhouses," Godric reassured, before his voice grew dark. " After sufficient time passes, the elder Mr. Hale will suffer appropriately for his crimes against his niece and great-nieces."

"Poor Adele!" Carly couldn't imagine the woman's pain and guilt. "When did she find out?"

"Linda told her just before she died," Godric relayed from his conversation with Adele after Sookie had relaxed and fallen asleep. "Bartlett Hale has much to answer for."

Carly contemplated for a moment before she spoke again. Sookie wouldn't want her uncle to die for what he'd done, and she wouldn't be able to love a man who killed him, at least not genuinely. "Godric," Carly began carefully, "I don't think Sookie will respond well to your killing her uncle."

"I have no intention to kill him, child." Godric's voice grew deeper and his accent thickened. "Death is too quick, and I do not have faith that an afterlife would provide adequate recompense for his sins." Grasping Carly's hand, Godric whispered, "Every moment of every day will be excruciating. He will not be able to end his own suffering through suicide, and no penance, no matter how great, no forgiveness, no matter how generous, will relieve his agony. I need but one hour with him, and he will feel more pain and self loathing than all the suffering Titans of Greek myth."

As Godric's grip tightened with every word, Carly grew cold with fear. When he stopped, visions-horrific scenes of his own torture, of his rape as an imprisoned adolescent, of his master prostituting him for Roman aristocrats-flooded her mind and she gasped before weeping. "I'm so sorry, Godric. You- you've survived hell."

"Yes, and I was not able to punish my torturer, only free myself."

Carly saw a vision of Godric's maker feasting on another boy in front of Godric. With a second's deliberation, Godric ran him through with a wooden pointer, and the vampire dissolved, covering the dying child in a sheen of red.

"How long was it before you made Eric?"

Godric remained quiet for a moment and then answered, "Nine hundred years. I made Eric a vampire, but he returned me to society. For half a millenium, I was a pariah, tolerated, but feared. Few vampires kill their maker, although mine killed all his progeny once he tired of us. He let me live longer because..."

The horrible voice resonated in Carly's ears-perhaps a relic of one of her dreams of Godric: "You are perfect-I turned you at exactly the right time. A beardless stallion!"

Carly repeated the horrible phrase: "A beardless stallion."

"Yes, an unfortunate phrase, don't you think." Godric paused, "How did you know it?"

"I don't know, but I've dreamt of your youth, before the Romans took you." She decided to be as forthcoming as possible, since she knew that Godric was as much a part of her life as Eric. "Since you bit me and healed the wound, I've had a few of these dreams. I've had many, many more about Eric's life."

"Remarkable." Godric fell silent before making a request. "When you speak to Sookie today, could you ask her if she ever has such dreams? I plan to tie her to me, but I don't wish her to suffer."

"Sure," Carly responded immediately before expressing some surprise. "You're going to bond with her?"

"No," Godric replied, "not as you and Eric has woven your fates together, although I hope that she will be willing to share the blood-tie her cousin had with the queen.'

"There's a difference?"

"Yes," Godric replied matter-of-factly, "the two of you have become one, which is only possible between immortals. If a human were to become one with a vampire, the vampire would die when the human did. As a result, the human could not be turned, at least not by his beloved."

Carly struggled to remember if Eric knew she was immortal when they'd shared blood-although she couldn't recall when the connection between them began. She snuggled closer to Eric, before saying, "That would be horribly sad."

"Indeed."

Carly lay in silence before she finally realized that Godric had gone to sleep.

She drowsed a little longer before she heard Yevgeny call to her, "Coffee."

Squeezed out of Eric's grip, Carly struggled to gather her wits. Her head still hurt, and her throat was dry from crying. Carly felt her way past the curtain that blocked light from the king-sized bed and then groped for a light-switch. In the light, she dressed herself and grabbed a toiletry bag from her luggage so she could use a real bathroom inside the house.

Yevgeny was waiting for her outside the RV. His thick hair seemed damp, but Carly couldn't remember hearing water running, and the bathroom, when she grabbed her toothbrush, seemed dry.

The bear pointed to the door and said, "I need lock."

Carly rushed out of the way, "Sure. Why are you wet, Yevgeny?"

"Hose," Yevgeny pointed at a smoothly wound garden hose. With a huge smile, he said, "I sleep under tree and wash, then dress."

"Did you sleep as a bear?" Carly asked.

Yevgengy stared for a moment and then held his head down, in much the same position he had the night before when a bear. Carly touched his forehead and focused. She felt the sensations of leaves and twigs crushing beneath his weight and then his awakening to the first sun as a bear. Recalling his slow amble into the front garden, he showed Carly his transformation as he stood before Adele's flowers. Carly's stomach tumbled at the sensation, the feeling of being turned inside out, and she pulled away.

She shook off the feeling and then said, "Thanks. Is it the same for all of you?"

"All?"

Carly grabbed his hand and imagined people turning into all the animals Eric listed the night before, and then Sam turning from one animal to another. She forced the images into his mind.

Yevgeny startled slightly and then nodded. "Nyet. I sleep in woods. Others sleep in beds. They wake men."

Carly understood and wished desperately that shape-shifters were in the open, because they were a classical anthropologist's dream. She imagined, for a moment, Jane Goodall sitting at the edge of Russian stream watching Yevgeny and his family in their natural habitat. She also wished, again, that she and he could communicate more effectively.

"Good morning Carly, Jenya, you two ready for coffee?" Adele's cheerful voice invited them from the porch.

"Yes, ma'am," Carly replied. When the two mounted the steps, Adele embraced Carly and held on so firmly that Carly started to cry. Realizing how much Adele wanted to connect with her, Carly let down her shields, and the full force of Adele's thoughts hit her.

_I owe you even more this morning. My grand-babies understand each other better than ever, Sookie's started to forgive herself for all she's held in, and Hadley might get back a little more of that spark she had when she was just a little girl. Before he went to sleep, Jason even wondered if maybe one reason he's such a skirt-chaser is that Bartlett's always had him talk about his conquests-even back to schoolyard kisses._

"Adele," Carly answered aloud, "you're welcome. I'm just sorry it had to be so violent and dramatic."

Finally letting go with a laugh, Adele said, "I think we all avoided the drama a little too long." She turned back toward the door and added, "Best alarm clock of all is a good breakfast, so let's get cooking."

Adele presented Yevgeny with a pile of biscuit dough and mimed out the procedure for rolling and cutting it. He nodded vigorously and began pummeling and shaping the dough into little pieces cut with the remains of an ancient tin can.

"Carly, can you start the bacon cooking?"

"No problem. Do you cook it on the stovetop or in the oven?" Carly asked, remembering her own mother's preferences.

"In the cast iron skillet," Adele gestured to an open shelf that held the mighty vessel, "and then we'll cook up the eggs in the grease."

Each worked on their part of the breakfast. Adele carved out a fruit salad with grapefruit and canned peaches, while Carly cooked two pounds of bacon. By the end of the first pound, Jason Stackhouse, more than a little bleary eyed, appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Gran," Jason mumbled, "please tell me you got some coffee and some aspirin for me."

At full volume, Adele said, "The aspirin is in the medicine cabinet, and you can get your own coffee."

"Yes, ma'am," Jason responded sheepishly.

"Serves the boy right to drink so much last night." Adele grumbled. "No man needs that much beer in one sitting, and we don't have any idea how much he drank at Merlotte's."

When Jason returned, clearly having overheard his grandmother, he said, "Too much, Gran, I know. I can't do that sort of thing. I'm just real glad it's Saturday."

"Me too," Adele smiled at Carly, who opened herself up to the woman, and thought, _Watch how he whines like a baby._ "I need my lawn mowed and a few trees cut down."

"Oh, Gran, my head! Do you know how my head feels this morning! I can't do that..." Jason lived up to his grandmother's prophecy.

"You have ear protection in your truck," Adele brooked no opposition. "I know very well you do. You'll put it on and do my yard young man. It's the least you can do for your poor old grandmother when you've abandoned her for that bachelor pad of yours."

Carly laughed to herself, realizing that Adele Stackhouse had this young man under as much control as possible. If it weren't for her, he would probably be in jail, a complete drunkard, or dead.

Once Jason had stopped his tirade, Carly heard Sookie's footsteps on the stairs, and she opened herself up to Sookie's thoughts.

_I wonder if Carly's even still here. I feel so bad...didn't mean to hurt her at all...hope she isn't too mad at me if she is still here. I really hope she doesn't hear me all the time._

Deciding to respond, Carly thought, _This morning, it's only been when I try. Why didn't you know I was here already?_

Sookie stopped halfway down the steps and waited. After a deep breath that was audible in the kitchen, she skipped down the final steps. "Hey, morning, everybody," Sookie said, half-way cheerful.

"Morning," Yevgeny shouted, "Good day!" He smiled broadly, with his hands still covered in flour as he sipped at his coffee.

"Good morning, Sookie," Carly smiled at the other woman before thinking, _Everything's okay, Sookie. I understand. We can talk more and figure out why that happened._

After a hug from her grandmother, Sookie, teary-eyed, said, "I hope y'all aren't too mad at me this morning."

Jason, although clearly pained, rose and hugged his sister, "Shit, Sookie, don't say stuff like that. We all love you." He released her and then said, stumbling, "Well, Gran and Hadley and I all love you, and they like you just fine."

"Exactly," Carly agreed.

Sookie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table. "I'll set up in a second, I just need some coffee."

_Godric was really good to me last night, Carly_, Sookie addressed the other telepath. Without consciously trying to, Sookie sent Carly a vivid memory of how Godric had comforted her in her distress.

The memory began as Eric helped Carly limp out of the house toward the shelter of the RV. Godric stood, holding Sookie's hand gently, stroking the back of it, while Jason asked, what she meant...of course he cared about who touched his sister, and he'd never gone fishing with anyone she dated. Then, the upheaval of Sookie's revelation hit. The memory shook; it was so violent, and the cacophony of Sookie's thoughts, her grandmother's, her brother's, and her cousin's was nearly overwhelming, even a day after. As Jason cursed, and ranted, and refused to believe, until Hadley affirmed Sookie's claims with her own, even more horrific revelations, and those of her mother, Godric held Sookie's hand, and whispered, _I am here for you, child, for whatever you need. The moment you wish to leave, I will shelter you, I will keep you safe._ Finally, Jason fell before Sookie and begged to be forgiven, and Godric comforted the young man as if he were a father, or a brother. He assured Jason that all would be well, that he was not responsible, that he could protect his sister from now on, and all would be right between them, that no violence toward Bartlett was necessary on his part. Godric brought Sookie water and crackers, and finally, he stayed by her side—with her door open in a spirit of propriety—holding her hand, until she slept.

Carly wondered what else she could say. With as much force as she could, she guarded her memory of Melissa, of discovering Melissa near death, covered in a layer of blood and sex. Finally, she said simply, "I think Godric is a good person, Sookie, and he seems to care very much for you, already."

"I really don't know how," Sookie said quietly.

Adele broke into the conversation, "Now, don't say such things, Sookie. You are a kind, loving, loyal, wonderful person, who has always stuck by her friends no matter what. You don't judge others, even though you know much more about people than you want. I think there's no reason in the world he wouldn't care about you."

Carly smiled, "I agree, Sookie. You welcomed me into your family." Looking toward Adele, she said, "You both did, and I'm grateful." With a laugh, "Godric told me you'd like to meet my mother, Adele. I think she'd like to meet you as well—you'd have some stories to trade about how hard it is to raise someone like us."

"When someone has a good heart, there's no difficulty at all, Carly," Adele said before rubbing her on the shoulder. "Now don't let that bacon burn!"

Breakfast continued in a spirit of forgiveness and comraderie, even more so after Hadley arrived. She had not slept quite as well as her cousins, she reported.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Carly offered.

"No," Hadley shook her head, "and please don't go poking around, either, because I had really bad nightmares." Rubbing her arms with her hands in a self-protective gesture, Hadley said, "Sometimes I have these awful dreams, and they feel like things I've seen, but that I've forgotten. I think that they happened, but Sophie Ann made me forget them."

"Could be," Carly affirmed. "Do you ever dream about her death?"

"No, never." Hadley smiled weakly before adding quietly, "But I figured out you took that memory away. I think you're better at it than the vampires."

"Don't tell them that, Hadley. It will piss them off."

The two laughed for a moment before returning to the conversation at large.

Jason still protested that his head hurt too much to mow the lawn, but Adele insisted until he finally, head hanging in a pout, agreed to go do it.

Hadley and Sookie washed the dishes and put them away, and Adele made a batch of iced tea for the afternoon. Once the women finished their tasks, Hadley dressed for her shift at the grocery store and departed.

"Sookie, do you have some time to talk?" Carly asked. "I'd like to talk about what happened yesterday and how you're feeling. And then I think I'd like to draw a little more of that energy off from the woods."

"Are you sure you should do that?" Sookie's voice betrayed tremendous fear. "Didn't Eric say he wanted you to have someone with you?"

"I'll have Yevgeny help me. If he sees me light up, he can knock me out of the way with a broom." Carly giggled. "It will be just like when someone gets an electric shock."

"I don't think you should joke about this, Carly, and I don't think you should do it."

Sookie's protectiveness, as well as her respect for the vampire's authority, seemed sweet, more evidence of that kind nature, but Carly wondered what would happen if the reverse was true. What would happen if Sookie set her mind to do something and someone else tried to talk her out of it? Would she relent as quickly as she expected Carly to do?

"Now that I have a better sense of how that portal works, I want to get closer to it." Carly explained. "Eric and I have surveying to do tonight, and I want to get as much of this cleared up as possible. We still don't know if the problem last night was that you were a stronger broadcaster or if I was a stronger receiver."

Sookie brightened suddenly. "That's what I call it too. There are just some people who are loud—you can be in a room with twenty people and one of them comes through loud and clear while the others are all quiet or not thinking in words."

"I have no idea how the physics of this work, Sookie, so radio waves are the best analogy I can think of." Carly shrugged. "But I want to get away a little from the house. Yevgeny can be nearby, but he only understands about a third of what we're talking about, and if we need to keep it confidential..."

_We can always just think loudly, _Carly punctuated with a transition to thought.

"Okay." Sookie thought for a moment. "Can I put on my bathing suit to get a little sun?"

"Sure," Carly responded quietly, "and I'll get my SPF 500 sunblock and the biggest hat known to man out of the RV."

After they were changed and slathered with tanning oil and sunblock, the two telepaths retreated to a small hillside beside Carly's house. Jason had chosen to cut down the errant trees first, so he wouldn't be mowing the grass they sat on for some time.

"So what do you want to talk about, Carly," Sookie began the conversation.

"First, I want to talk about last night."

"Okay."

"When you woke up from passing out, did you feel any different, or did you hear the people around you any differently than you did before?"

Sookie sat silently. "Most of the time, it's like I hear someone going back and forth between radio stations. Nothing really tunes in unless I'm close, or touch someone, or really focus in. Last night, it was kind of like I heard four different people talking all at once."

"So the thoughts were clearer to you than they were before?"

"I guess," Sookie agreed half-heartedly.

"When you were so loud to me, did you hear my thoughts at all?"

"At that point, I didn't really hear anything but what was going on in my own mind, I was so damned angry."

Sookie grabbed Carly's hand and said, "Can I show you Sam's visit?"

"Sure, but try it first without holding onto me," Carly advised.

"Okay."

Sookie remembered Sam coming in, smiling to everyone he knew, but thinking _Why is there a shifter here? It smells unfamiliar, like a bear. I don't think there are any bears in America—mostly in Europe. Who the hell is here with Sookie? _When he saw Godric again, Sam started thinking that if he knew Eric and was close to him, he had to be strong, and he had to be a killer. And then he thought those horribly ugly things about Eric, thinking that Eric would screw anything that didn't run fast enough, even Gran, even Jason, that he'd make all of them slaves. Sam believed that Fangtasia had a dungeon filled with human slaves—that vampires could pay extra to feed from them.

"That isn't true at all," Carly remarked, interrupting Sookie's "transmission." "Well, there is kind of a dungeon, but it's for holding prisoners, vampire prisoners, because he's a sheriff."

"Oh." Sookie continued with her memory.

Sam recalled the first time he'd met Eric, when he moved to Bon Temps. As a solitary shifter, he was expected to abide by supernatural laws and report to the heads of all the dominant groups in the area. He reported to the Shreveport werewolves, and to the head of a pack of panthers, and to Eric. Eric demanded to know everything about his past, and Sam had lied to him. He told him only what he wanted him to know, and Sam worried that Eric would learn the truth and make life difficult for him, even though Sam wanted a new start.

"So did he reveal what he'd done to you?" Carly asked.

"No." Sookie shook her head. "That was the worst of it, he had all these suspicions, all these judgements, but he didn't point the finger at himself at all." Sookie trembled slightly. "It just made me so damn mad that he'd think all these horrible things without ever having seen any of it himself."

"The first thing you need to know, Sookie," Carly lowered her voice, even though no one was immediately near, "is that vampires do kill, that Godric and Eric have killed and likely will kill. But they've taken on..." Carly struggled to find the right words, "special obligations. They will behave justly, and they can be kind. I think, very likely, that there's goodness in almost anyone, of any kind, although there are also those in the world who are deeply evil."

Sookie swallowed a sip of tea. "Are those deeply evil ones after me?"

Carly shrugged. "Perhaps. I don't really know. We do know that they're after people like you, and they likely have encountered your name, so we have to keep you safe."

Sookie and Carly sat quietly for about ten minutes, until Carly began to feel like she was pinkening up. Even with the sunscreen, her northern European skin did not tan. Carly remembered two states from her childhood summers in the Hamptons—pale and crispy. She vowed, since she became an adult, never to get crispy again. Initially, she wanted to avert skin cancer. Now that her health wasn't a great concern to her, she just wanted to keep away the suffering.

"Can we go sit on the porch, Sookie?" Carly pleaded.

"Already?"

"Yes, I'm Dutch, Carly. There's little sun in the Netherlands, and the other part of me, well, I guess it burns easily too." Heaving herself up to standing, Carly headed toward the house. "If you want to stay, that's fine. I'll go find Yevgeny and go poke around in the woods."

Before Sookie could object, Carly was out of earshot. Yevgeny consented readily, since he had a clear view of the RV from the clearing with the portal. Before she approached the shimmering energy field, Carly grasped her fairy talisman in her hands. As she walked toward the portal, she said to Yevgeny, "If I look like I'm on fire, knock me down, that way," she pointed away from the portal.

Miming the action, Yevgeny signified his understanding.

Carly, once more, walked toward the energy field, and extended her hand into it. The energy coursed through her with the same ferocity it did the day before, flooding her mind with more visions of hideous fighting, only this time, she was able to make out the faces of some of those who battled against each other. All who fought were fairies, but some who shot back and forth among the combatants were different, smaller, or gnarled, disfigured, but surprisingly flexible and lithe. On occasion, they changed shape, taking on the appearance of a fallen warrior.

Once she felt as if she neared her capacity, she stepped backward, and held the energy, reshaping, transforming it, and releasing it into the talisman, which glowed, and then subsided.

She took another step back into the field, and experienced even more of the same fighting, although these visions seemed to capture individual betrayals. Silent killings that disturbed a household—a man's throat slit in his sleep, or a child wrenched from its cradle and thrown over a wall. Over and over again, children died, skewered, pounded with stones, bashed up against walls.

With a gasp, she backed away from the portal, not because she was full of energy, but because the visions were too terrible for her to linger there much longer. When the energy dissipated, Carly decided that she would take one more stab at the portal and see what happened. The visions of murdered children returned, along with visions of beaten mothers, their pregnancies ended against their will.

It was too much for her to take, so she decided that she would seek counsel, talk with her aunt, or with Godric and Eric before she attempted more. Perhaps the fairy she met before would be willing to offer her answers.

No sooner had she contemplated that possibility, Carly heard Yevgeny mumble. "I go, now."

He turned and walked away, almost in a daze. As soon as he was out of the glade, the crystalline structure assembled around her.

"Seriously?" Carly growled. "I just think, huh, maybe I should talk to the fairy prince."

"Yes," Niall answered.

"So, explain," Carly demanded, her arms crossed defiantly and angrily.

"I have no idea what you've seen, Carly," the prince replied. "You, my dear, are the valkyrie."

"Why were they killing babies, and pregnant women?"

"Ah," he clearly recognized the reference. "Before the civil war began in earnest, there were efforts to strengthen one clan over another. The best strategy, the disputants thought, was to reduce the numbers in each clan. A clan without children had little bargaining power, for those who hold to life eagerly—the old—are loath to relinquish it. They will trade power for their own safety."

"How long ago did this happen?"

Niall seemed to retreat into thought, "Oh, I would say, two thousand years ago, or so."

"And how long have you been sealed away from the valkyrie?"

"Perhaps another thousand years, or so, it's difficult to recall."

Carly began to laugh loudly, "So I've sucked two thousand years of death out of your world in the last two days?"

"Indeed," Niall smiled, "you are quite extraordinary." His appearance turned slightly predatory and his eyes darkened. "In fact, I've come to think you would make an extraordinary mate."

"Excuse me?" Carly sputtered. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, not at all." Niall closed the distance between them slightly. "You are very attractive, and you carry fae blood, and perhaps we wouldn't need to open ourselves back up to your busy-body family if we took you now."

Carly watched Niall lift his arm to grasp her, and Carly said, "Never."

"Why, Carly?"

"Don't you recall how we met, Niall?" Carly remembered the ceremony. "I pledged myself to the mystery, and you made that commitment too. And to my vampire. You're willing to betray that? To betray us? I doubt the vampires who have sworn to protect you and your kind would be terribly happy if you took me. You're willing to destroy all that because you think I might make useful babies?"

Niall backed up slightly. "Perhaps I am being hasty. I forgot your bond to the vampire. We couldn't risk that contamination."

As quickly as it had risen, the structure disassembled. Without an additional word, Niall stepped through the portal and dissapeared.

"I really don't like fairies," Carly said under her breath. "I don't know if all of you deserve a clean slate, but I'm going to get all I can from you all." Without considering carefully what she was doing, Carly extended her hand into the energy field again and took in another set of visions, these much more ordinary: the extraordinarily old letting go of life, the young dying in accidents. Carly allowed herself to take it all in. Rather than siphoning it away through the talisman, however, Carly let it linger, allowed the visions to deepen, until she saw moments of life. Finally, she latched onto one moment and held it tightly.

A young mother, holding the corpse of her dead husband, dead because of his own hand, confronted a being like Carly, a being Carly recognized from her visions of the cave of the cauldron. Rage and hatred pumped through the widow like gasoline into an engine. _You can't have him! He's mine! _The widow screamed, over and over again. _As long as his energy stays with us, I will not have lost him. I'll keep everything he was, even if it means that you never come back. _With each beat of her heart, the widow became more and more like a furnace. Finally, she denied the valkyrie her prize, and cast a ball of white fire toward her. The fabric of time and space ripped behind the valkyrie, and the widow wept, still satisfied that she'd found a way to banish the valkyries from her world.

"Carly," Sookie's plaintive voice interrupted Carly's vision. "Carly, you're glowing again. Do I need to push you away?"

Sookie gasped when Carly opened her eyes, but Carly felt invincible. "It's okay, Sookie. I've taken it all, I just need a moment." Ripe with the life of the fairies, Carly poured it away through the talisman, bit by bit, so that she didn't overload the token. As she felt the last of the energy dissipating, Carly said, "Sookie, I know what fairies can do."

"What?" Sookie asked, her voice quavering.

"You can shoot energy from your hands," Carly started to laugh harder as her own glow subsided. "I don't think you're quite as helpless as Godric might think."

"That's good." Sookie smiled brightly at her now normal friend. "I gotta go to work though, so can we think about shooting fire later?"

"No problem. I need a nap anyway." Without warning, Carly dissappeared from Sookie's view and returned to the RV to lay beside her vampire.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

A/N No infringement of Charlaine Harris's or Alan Ball's copyrights is intended.

For a few moments, Carly lay still beside Eric, perched across his arm that was still in the same position it occupied when she departed in the morning. Finally, she shed her clothes, down to her underwear, since Godric lay on her other side, and crawled beneath the extraordinary weight of Eric's dead limb. She pulled a throw blanket over herself and prepared for sleep.

Within five minutes, Carly heard Sookie's plaintive voice, calling out for her. "Carly? Are you anywhere around here? Where did you go?"

Despite her exhaustion, Carly sent Sookie a message. _I'm fine. I'm in the RV. I just need to sleep for a little while. Make sure to take Yevgeny with you to Merlotte's. Tell your grandmother that I'll see you her later, if she's still up when you get off work. We'll meet you there._

_Okay, _Sookie responded telepathically. _How did you do that?_

_We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?_

Sookie replied audibly, "See you later then."

Eric, Godric, and Carly agreed that Sookie was the most likely target for any kidnapping attempt, so they'd planned that Yevgeny should shadow her if Carly stayed behind with the vampires. While the bear would have a better chance of protecting the vampires from an external threat, the three of them anticipated that Carly could always transport them to another location, where they could elude the danger.

As Sookie's mental signature retreated, Carly fell into a deep sleep.

She felt herself swinging slowly back and forth on a porch swing much like Adele's. Before her sat a broad bay that she seemed to recognize, although she couldn't place it. _Where am I_? Carly's dream self asked, before hearing the answer, moving into her ear like a warm oil, suffocating all other sound.

_You're with me, daughter, and this is a fjord where I spent many days waiting for the ships to arrive. _

Carly turned her head, taking in nothing more than landscape. When she looked up, she saw that the swing moved on its own, apparently, the supports retreating so far into the sky she couldn't see the support beam.

_Dad?_

_Yes, my sweet Carlotta, I'm with you, even if I have no form. _The warmth moved from her ear, down her throat, and across her chest, inflaming her heart. _Memories linger, and give us life of a kind. As you need me, I will be here._

Encircled by paternal love, Carly leaned back, swinging, embraced by a devotion she missed so dearly.

Eric woke her by drawing her toward him until she pressed firmly against his body. "My love, you've defied me," he said seductively, as he kissed her forehead and gripped her back.

"Mm-hmm," Carly stretched against him, lifting her leg across his hips and extending her leg until she was completely taut and relaxed again into jelly. "What?"

"I told you, sweet, stubborn valkyrie, to wait until I could accompany you to the portal." Eric stroked her ass, and then slid his fingers into her without warning. "You should be punished."

As he pulled her forward, teasing her through the discomfort into full arousal, Carly mumbled against his lips. "Yevgeny was there."

"That feels only like a half-truth," Eric responded before biting her earlobes with his blunt human teeth. "You're keeping things from me. Why are you being so very, very bad?" Eric swatted her behind, and Carly laughed in response.

Raising his hands to her face, Eric lost his playfulness. "You know I love to play, Carly, and I will punish you most delightfully, but you cannot retain my trust and risk yourself."

Even though the lay in darkness, Carly could feel the intensity of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Eric." She kissed his lips softly and added, "I will not risk myself."

"So what dangers are you omitting?"

"Niall Brigant, the fairy prince, came when I asked a question, although I didn't intend for him to seek me out." Carly moved to mirror Eric's position, cradling his face in her hands. "He explained what my visions were, told me that I had consumed two thousand years of fairy energy," Carly paused long enough for Eric to prompt her.

"There is more you're holding from me."

"Yes," Carly's voice cracked faintly, now overcome by guilt, recalling Sookie's caution. "He said I'd make an extraordinary mate."

Horrific pain stabbed Carly directly in the chest, and she struggled for breath.

"I'm sorry, Eric," she cried out. "I'm so sorry."

"As am I," Eric's voice betrayed nothing of the anger, the deep feelings of betrayal he felt.

"I reminded him about you and told him that the vampires wouldn't help his cause, ever again if he took me from you," Carly wept, and gasped as she spoke.

As suddenly as the hot poker of rage impaled her, it was gone, replaced by a feeling of warmth that rivaled that of her dream moments before.

Eric kissed her deeply and the passion mounted as he climbed atop her. Even though she felt his passion, he remained gentle, seemingly making up for his previous dominance with compassionate touch. He did away with the small cloth barriers between them and entered her slowly, languidly, allowing her hips to devour him until he was fully within her.

Carly's tears were gone, and they lingered together, moving slowly, patiently, without a goal, reveling in the connection they shared. In a whisper, Carly asked, "How do we know if we're bonded forever?"

"When there is no separation between us, between what I feel and what you feel, between what we know." Eric inhaled Carly's scent before lifting her one leg up so he could gain a firmer purchase.

The path Eric's fingers traveled up the back of her leg, from where they met, along the back of her thigh, until he drew lazy shapes behind her knee, inspired such desire in her, that she wanted Eric deeper within her, moving faster, hitting harder.

Without a word, Eric obliged. His rhythm increasing, Carly felt deep hunger rising from her belly to her throat, until she felt her mouth parch in an overwhelming heat.

"Let me feed you, Eric, please," Carly begged.

Eric's fangs dropped and he began licking at her leg, hitting a ticklish spot that sent her into orgasm. As he bit, Carly felt the sensation of warm honey running down her throat, inflaming her belly, sating her hunger until euphoria lifted her so high the only way she could fall was through another searing orgasm, coordinated with Eric's.

The vampire collapsed on top of her, and Carly cradled his huge body in his arms. Stroking his hair away from his face, she said sweetly, "Now, forever."

"Forever, my love."

Godric interrupted their bliss, turning on the lights within the RV. While she knew she should be overcome by embarrassment, or shame, with the realization that only a heavy curtain had separated him from their lovemaking, Carly felt nothing of a sort. She and Eric, she knew, were one, and Godric had felt Eric's joy and elation, the love that coursed through him, and the comfort that resulted, as much as she. If the only feelings he'd experienced were prurient, that was his problem, not hers.

"True darkness has fallen, my children. We were going to inspect a few more properties before meeting Sookie at Merlotte's were we not?"

"Yes, your majesty," Eric hummed into Carly's bosom. "Just let us clean up, and we'll be at your disposal."

After a final kiss, Eric rose off of her, wiped himself off, and began to dress. Carly opted for a quick shower, before dressing.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found an outfit laid out for her—jeans, sweater, and equestrian boots, along with lacy underwear.

"Thank you, Eric," Carly called through the curtain. "I appreciate it, although it would be nice to know who does all this shopping."

"Pamela," Godric reported. "Who else has to feed her addiction?"

The three shared a brief laugh at Pam's expense while Godric consulted the map as well as an email from Marcus.

"Marcus sent us two more properties that were just purchased, as well as reports of recent major renovation projects," Godric printed the pages on a small portable printer. "Carly," Godric began, "I would also like you to cease interacting with fairies without our supervision or that of another initiate."

"Is this because of Niall?" Carly didn't disapprove; she just wondered if there were additional reasons for Godric's concern.

Godric smiled beatifically. "I overheard a great deal, child, but this information presented my only concern."

"I won't argue," Carly affirmed. "I don't harbor any illusions. Niall certainly isn't Elrond."

"No," Godric agreed. "I find the negative comparison apt, however. I enjoyed those novels quite a bit, although I couldn't master Tolkien's languages, although his scripts were worth imitation."

Beside the door, Eric extended his arm. "Shall we go? Carly, please grab the harness and a jacket."

Excitedly, Godric asked, "Did the harness assist or hinder?"

"It definitely made me feel more secure, since I didn't feel like Eric had to choose between holding me and doing something with his hands." Once outside the RV, Carly climbed into her portion of the harness and turned so that Eric could complete the process.

Godric was clearly proud of his ingenuity. "I enjoyed designing it very much, although I don't think we will need more than two or three more. Pamela has still not shown any inclination toward flight."

"It would be very hard to keep pumps on in flight," Eric joked. "Perhaps that's the real issue."

"Altogether likely, my child."

Carly and the two vampires launched into the air toward the first property, which held a recently demolished chicken farm. Since Carly sensed no occupants as they hovered, the three didn't land for further investigation.

The next two pieces of land supported modest mobile homes. One was entirely unoccupied, the next had four residents. Landing on the edge of a stream across the road, where trees and vines concealed them, the two vampires waited for Carly's assessment.

She tuned in to the residents, who seemed extremely agitated, although not for the same reasons. An elderly woman's thoughts were most frantic and carried the greatest distress.

_They don't listen...I just can't catch my breath, why can't I catch my breath? Everything seems so slow, but I just feel like I'm falling out of my chair. Why is everything so quiet? I can't catch my breath. Damn, my stomach hurts so much, damn I can't catch my breath..._

"I think a woman's having a heart attack in there," Carly reported her findings to the vampires before assessing the other agitated minds in the trailer. She focused next on a middle-aged woman, who seemed near a man of approximately the same age.

_Bea came home, and I think she's been doin' drugs, but if I tell Cliff, he's just gonna hit her, gonna kick her out? Where she gonna go? She'll just wind up out in Shreveport—she'll be hurt, hurt my baby, can't let anybody hurt my baby, even her step-daddy, can't let them hurt my baby..._

_She's gonna be mad, cause I didn't tell her last week. She's gonna find out, but maybe if I get just a little advance at work I can get it paid before they send the cancellation notice. It's just cable tv._

The final mind in the trailer was an adolescent girl, whose thoughts came fast and loud once Carly grasped hold of their fleeting track. _I thought meth was good, but fuck, this is so much better, gonna stay up, gonna stay up, not gonna let my mama know. She's always worried I'm gonna get pregnant, not gonna get pregnant, not gonna get pregnant with a vamp...there's a whole bar out in Shreveport. If I let one bite me, I can bite it...yeah, gotta get more...gotta get more..._

"Shit," Carly sighed. "We've got to go in there, guys."

"Are the LeBlancs being held there?" Eric asked.

"No," Carly shook her head and looked to Godric in the hopes that he might have more compassion. "An old woman is having a heart attack in there, and no one is paying attention to her, and a teenage girl has just discovered V."

"The first issue is none of our concern, Carly," Eric ignored Carly's attempt to get Godric's attention.

"Well, what if I'm concerned, Eric?" Carly crossed her arms. "You brought me out here to listen, and I can't ignore someone who is in pain when just calling an ambulance would make the difference."

"How will we explain our presence, Carly?" Godric inquired, reasonably.

Carly looked up and down the road and couldn't see any other dwellings. "Our car broke down, and we need to use the phone."

"Plausible," Godric acknowledged. "Yes, we should intervene. I can see that your conscience would trouble you if we did not."

"We make a strange group, Carly." Eric reminded the other two. "Six months ago, would you have opened your door to a strange woman and two vampires?"

Carly looked at the two vampires, turning her head back and forth between them, and decided, "Okay, Godric, you come with me. Eric, stay behind. With any luck, they'll let us in for the phone, I can go get grandma and ambulance, and you can glamour the girl to stay away from V."

Eric contemplated for a moment and then traded looks with Godric. "As a plan, it's not bad. You can claim to have some medical training. But Godric, you should carry Carly down the road, so that you don't get muddy."

"Prudent," Godric agreed, and then picked Carly up and floated down the stream until a stand of trees concealed them from the trailer.

"I believe we should say that we are lost, and that our car is not functional," Godric suggested. "What would make a car cease to function in the most convincing way?"

"Well, if we were lost, we could have run out of gas." Carly laughed slightly and said, "Since I look slightly older, perhaps I should have been the one driving."

"You may do the talking, Carly, but we are in the south." Godric put his hands in his pockets and postured. "In the south, the menfolk do the driving."

"Don't make me laugh, Godric, we won't look nearly pathetic enough."

When they arrived at the house, Carly knocked, while Godric hung back a few paces. The man of the house answered, after a slight hesitation.

"Yeah," he said.

"Sir," Carly began, "I apologize for interrupting your evening. My cousin and I are lost—we're here visiting relatives and took a wrong turn, but we ran out of gas. Could I use your phone?"

"You don't have a cellphone?" The man's gruff, suspicious demeanor did not suggest they would be successful.

"I know, sir," Carly laughed. "My mom would be furious for me for leaving it at my cousin's house. But the charge had run down, and Jeff and I thought we'd only be out for an hour or so. Sue's probably mad at me too."

"Cliff," a feminine voice called out, "let them in, there's no where else for them to go unless you want them to keep walking all the way to the highway."

"All right." Cliff moved aside. "It's not long distance, is it?"

"She's in Bon Temps, so is that long distance from here?" Carly asked plaintively.

"Nah, that's still in the parish. Come on in, then."

With Cliff's grudging permission, Carly and Godric entered the trailer. "Thank you so much. We really, really appreciate it."

Cliff walked toward a phone charger, which sat empty. "Where the hell's the phone?"

"I think mom had it last, Cliff. She called her Aunt Betty earlier," the woman's voice echoed from the other side of the trailer.

"Ugh," Cliff groaned, and Carly saw her chance.

"If you just point me in the right direction, I'll get it from her." Carly smiled and put down her purse on a chair, emptying her hands, sensing he feared thieves.

"Second door on your right," Cliff pointed down a hallway.

The door was ajar, but Carly still knocked. The old woman's breath was ragged, but Carly noted that she wasn't that particularly old, and she looked generally fit. Her thoughts were disjointed, and she was falling in and out of consciousness, clearly near death. Carly checked her pulse and found it arrhythmic.

"Sir," Carly called out. "I think your mom might be having a heart attack. We should call for help!"

"What the hell?" Cliff stomped down the hallway and burst in behind Carly. When he saw his pale, gasping mother-in-law, he grabbed the phone and struggled to dial 911. "Come on Momma Jess, don't die on me. Your daughter will never let me hear the end of it."

"What's happening?" Momma Jess's daughter rushed into the cramped room and tumbled to the floor next to her mother. "Momma, we're getting help. Just stay with us." She began to pray.

After directing the rescue squad toward the trailer, Cliff remained on the phone, following instructions to change Momma Jess's position to one where she might have a better chance of surviving the episode. Using the opportunity afforded, Carly snuck out of the room, reconnecting with Godric, who nodded that his task was also complete.

Carly grabbed her purse and the two fled back across the road to the cover of the trees.

Eric asked, "Done? Can we go?"

"Just give me a minute." Carly tuned in to the terror that gripped the family across the narrow road. Momma Jess was more lucid, presumably her brain was getting more blood. Bea, their daughter, also began to express genuine concern and cursed the coffee that was making her so jumpy. She presumed she fought a cold or migraine as well, since she wasn't seeing things quite the way she assumed she should. "Okay," Carly assented and climbed back into the harness.

Godric and Eric rose just below the tree line and hugged it so that they could remain unseen from the road.

Their other inspections were uneventful and unproductive, so they finally flew to the woods behind Merlotte's and settled down. By that point, Carly was starved and looked forward eagerly to some more of Lafayette's greasy, but delectable, southern cooking.

As they walked toward the entrance, Godric stopped without warning and lingered behind. Eric noticed his absence and retreated to stand beside his maker. Carly couldn't hear their interchange, they spoke so quietly, but Carly recognized the fleeting sense of anger, confusion, and betrayal that either Eric felt or that he relayed to her from Godric.

When they walked forward to join her, Carly asked, as quietly as she could, "Is everything okay?"

"Compton is not where he was directed to be," Godric replied, "and I am troubled as a result."

"Where was he supposed to be?" Carly asked.

"He had been dispatched to Jackson to return a vampire whose maker required his presence." Godric cocked his head slightly. "I expected him to return directly to New Orleans, but he is nearby."

"Can he tell you're near?" Carly didn't know exactly how these blood-ties worked. Godric had compelled Compton to establish a tie, so that he could be more effectively monitored, since his loyalty was questionable.

"No," Godric assured Carly. "We will investigate this more, later. I regret that he has a home so near Sookie."

The three entered Merlotte's, where the crowd was beginning to thin out, leaving only the dedicated drinkers and the most disenfranchised. Carly recognized few faces from her earlier visits, but she noticed Sam's discomfort when the entered the bar.

"Hey there, Carly," Sam smiled at Carly and then nodded to the vampires in recognition before saying, "guys." Sam was drying a glass, as he seemed to be doing whenever she visited, but he thrust his chin toward the booths. "Sit anywhere you like. Kitchen's about to close, so is there anything I can get for you, Carly?"

"Whatever Lafayette still has cooking is fine with me."

"I'll let him know, and I'll send Sookie over to get your drink orders." Sam scowled slightly before adding, "She's checking on your buddy, who's back in my office."

"Thanks."

Carly watched as Sam went to the service window into the kitchen. Lafayette's grousing was briefly audible before she heard, "For my girl Carly, only the best. Let her know it will knock her little New York socks off."

"He's quite a character, isn't he," Eric commented with genuine admiration.

"Yes," Carly agreed. "I like Lafayette a lot. And I think he's pretty darn tough, too. Must have been hard to grow up around here."

Sookie emerged from the back of the restaurant and sped up when she saw the occupied table. "Hey there, how was your night?"

"We were able to play good Samaritan," Godric shared, before Carly filled Sookie in on the details telepathically.

_A woman was having a heart attack in a trailer we were checking, and we conned our way in and called an ambulance. Her family hadn't noticed._

"Wow," Sookie smiled, nearly ear to ear. "Can I get you guys a blood? And Carly, what do you want to drink?"

"Yes, please," Godric said, before touching Sookie's hand slightly.

Carly watched as Sookie's eyes fluttered. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes while serenity passed over her face. Her shoulders dropped nearly an inch, and her chest expanded with ever deepening breaths. Carly recognized the sensation immediately and took Eric's hand, appreciative of the refuge he offered when she needed it. He squeezed her hand to affirm her gratitude.

Relaxed, Sookie drew her hand from beneath Godric's and said, "I'll be back with those TruBlood's in just a minute. Carly?"

"Diet Coke."

In the moment that opened up after Sookie's departure, Carly sent her mind through the occupants of the room. One couple, on the verge of divorce, thinking murderous thoughts toward one another, ate their third batch of onion rings in the corner, sipping slowly on their beer to delay their trip home.

A few young men, lusting quietly after Sookie and Dawn, the other remaining waitress, played pool and tried to sober up for their drives home.

A woman, well-past her prime, sat at the bar imagining Sam dancing for her without his clothes. The vision made Carly chuckle.

"What?" Eric asked.

Carly lifted her chin toward the drunk woman and whispered, "Mr. Merlotte has fans, who wish he'd put in a go-go dancing stage."

"A kennel would be more appropriate," Eric replied quietly with a smirk.

"My child, do not be dismissive or disrespectful of Sookie's friends and allies."

"Yes," Eric dropped his eyes to the table before returning them to Godric, "but you know my issues with him."

"And they will be addressed appropriately, Eric."

Carly continued to sift through the minds in the room until she came across a boisterous couple dressed in biker gear. Even though they seemed to be flirting with one another actively, their minds were silent.

Dawn brought the couple a pitcher of beer and two glasses. "Just to let you know," she said, "this will have to be the only one tonight. We're going to be closing up in a little bit."

The man replied, "No problem, sugar, this will tide us over until tomorrow." Still, blankness dominated their minds. Carly had never encountered people who could talk without thinking, almost as if they had a script from which they were reading.

Suddenly anxious, Carly caught Sookie's eye and thought loudly, _Sookie, don't bring blood for Godric and Eric. I'm going to send them back to the office to sit with Yevgeny. _

Nearly simultaneously, Eric asked, "What has you so anxious, lover?"

"You two need to go back to Sam's office." Carly looked at Godric, "Something's wrong with those two people over there, and I think they may be under a glamour. If Compton's near, this might be some kind of trap. I don't want him to see two other vampires if he comes in."

Without hesitation, Eric and Godric walked quickly, in human steps, toward Sam's office. Eric snapped his fingers to get Sam's (irritated) attention as they passed by. Sam returned back to the taps moments later.

No sooner had Sam taken up another wet glass, then William Compton walked into the bar. Carly felt his familiar brain pattern pass through the doors, so she flipped her hair over her face to conceal herself from view.

Carly heard Sam say, "Sit anywhere you like, man, but we're gonna be closing up in a little while."

"Thank you, kindly," Compton replied.

Sookie brought Carly the Diet Coke. When she saw Carly's hair over her face, she moved to block Compton's view. "Your food will be ready in a minute." _I have to get his order, Carly. What do I do? Is he gonna attack me? I can tell he's a vampire._

_Not in here, but I bet he's going to do something. Just don't leave the room without one of us—preferably Godric, okay?_

_Okay._

Carly watched as Sookie began to tense up again. She smiled broadly, insincerely, Carly thought, and then twirled to face Compton. Carly didn't watch Sookie approach Compton, but she heard Sookie clearly when she asked. "Can I get you something to drink, sir? The kitchen's all closed up for the night."

"Do you have any of those TruBloods?"

_Tell him you don't have any, you don't have any, ran out, went bad, try not to serve him,_ Carly tried to communicate frantically.

Sookie picked up on the cue immediately, "Ah, shucks, sir, we had some, but we haven't had any vampires in here, so they went bad, and the truck hasn't come this week."

"Too bad," Compton replied smoothly. "I plan to make Bon Temps my home, so would you get me a glass of red wine, so I don't look out of place?"

"No problem," Sookie replied in a perky voice.

Carly, slumped like a sullen teenager, sipped her diet soda through a straw, while trying to listen to the minds in that quadrant of the dining room. As if on cue, the biker couple began thinking again.

_Damn, there's a vampire. How much does he weigh? Maybe he's got four, five pints of blood...we could...that's ten thousand dollars...no body can stop us...vampires like sex..maybe he'd like to party._

The woman called over to Compton, "Hey there? Welcome to town. You want to join us?"

"Why, thank you," Compton replied. "My name's Bill, Bill Compton."

"I'm Denise and this is my husband Mack," she replied in turn.

"So why Bon Temps?" Mack asked before laughing. "This here's a shithole town."

"I am originally from Bon Temps."

Denise said conspiratorially, "Are you a vampire?"

"Yes, I am." Bill began his narrative. "My last living descendant has recently passed on, and I plan to restore my family home. I built it during my lifetime."

"Wow," Denise said appreciatively. "That's so cool. It's terrible how people discriminate against y'all, just cause you're different."

"Well, I can understand their fears," Compton's reply struck Carly as evasive, overly politic. "Much of our reputation is well-earned."

Denise responded flirtatiously, "I just think we should all be friends." With a laugh, she added, "Mack and I tend to keep vampire hours. Maybe we can get together some time."

Sookie delivered Compton's unnecessary wine, "Here you go, sir."

"Thank you," Compton paused, before adding, "Sookie. That's quite an unusual name, Sookie."

"Not really. Can I get any of you anything else before we have last call?"

Carly tried to share Sookie's stream of consciousness, but felt nothing but disgust as she turned away from the table. _You don't even want to know what he said, Carly. Gross. But she's thinking about draining him._ _Shouldn't we do something?_

_Let's just wait._

With effort, Carly finally found Compton's "frequency" and tuned in to listen. _She is a pretty thing. Still as virginal as her cousin promised Sophie-Ann...Russell will let me enjoy that..until he breeds her...he's older than Godric...Russell's blood must be stronger...keep me off the radar. These two idiots seem to be staying to plan. They will stab her...I will save her...she will take my blood to heal. Lure her to the house, call her brother and Hadley. Shame those others resisted. Don't know why he had to kill all of them...don't know why Russell would turn such a monster to begin with, and give him access to such tempting food..._

The sound of a beer glass slammed onto a table broke her concentration. Carly was devastatedand struggled to cordon off her despair from Sookie. It would do the other young woman no good to have a sense of the imminent danger she faced.

"Well, let's hit the road and go party, Bill!" Mack announced, and Carly heard Bill reply, "I shall enjoy getting to know you...both...better."

Denise flirted, "Why, Bill, the pleasure is all ours."

When she heard the door close, Carly shot up and ran into the office.

"It's a trap," she said breathlessly. "He's counting on Sookie's good nature—he's got a couple drainers primed to take some of his blood and stab Sookie."

Godric took charge. "Carly, go back into the restaurant with Sookie. Yevgeny, go get into the car. They will have to do this within a short distance of the bar."

"This is dangerous, Godric," Eric interjected, "I don't like her in danger."

"Carly, you must accompany Sookie outside. We will hover, and the moment we see her threatened, we will confront him." Glowering toward Eric, Godric said, "We have little time. Carly will be fine. See if the shifter has a weapon of some sort." Godric rushed out the door of the office, and Carly and Yevgeny followed instructions.

When Carly emerged from the hallway, Sookie asked, "What are we going to do? Are we just going to let him die?"

"Sookie, calm down. He won't die." Carly asked Sam, "Do you have a baseball bat, or a shotgun?"

Sam handed Sookie a baseball bat from under the bar. "What the hell are you doing, Carly? Are those two vampires sending you out to deal with this?"

"No, Sam, but we have to make this look good." Carly grabbed hold of Sookie's arms and said, "Listen, Sookie, you have to do exactly as you would if I wasn't here, but you must not, under any circumstances, get hurt, do you understand?"

"Let's just go, Carly!" _I don't care if he's got bad intent toward me, I can't stand by and watch someone die._

As they ran out of the restaurant, Carly tried to get Sookie to understand. _He's done something to the bikers-_

_The Rattrays, they're druggies._

_He's done something, and they plan to hurt you so that he can give you his blood. Do not taste or touch his blood, Sookie._

"Eww!" Sookie called out. "Why the hell would I do that?"

Sookie stopped at the end of the parking lot, and Carly could tell she was feeling for the Rattrays' minds. Wanting a better sense of what Sookie could do, Carly followed her lead as they darted off to a service path set back from the road. Compton lay wrapped in a silver chain with a blood bag attached to his arm. The whole scenario looked rather preposterous, from what Carly could see. If he had actually lost as much blood as was in the bag, he would most likely already be dead. _He must have been collecting it..._

"Get the hell away from him," Sookie screamed. "Leave him alone."

"What are you going to do about it, bitch?" Denise Rattray responded defiantly.

Carly caught up—Sookie was quick—and brandished the baseball bat. "Listen to her. Move away from the bag."

With Sookie's attention on Denise, Carly felt around the area for Mack, who she realized was just obscured behind the tree line, just behind Carly and Sookie. Carly moved up to stand beside Sookie, giving Mack the illusion he had a clear line of attack. She swung the bat back and forth, estimating its length and weight. With her mind focused on Mack, Carly imagined the trajectory the bat would have to take. When Mack moved into the right position, Carly swung around with all the force she could and knocked Mack in the head with the baseball bat. After the crack, he collapsed to the ground, dropping the knife.

Sookie stood on the knife and demanded, "Get that thing out of his arm!"

Denise sobbed, "What the hell! You killed him!"

"Maybe," Carly replied, before trying to assess the condition of his brain. He was still alive, although unconscious. "Now do as Sookie says!"

Denise's mind went blank again, and Carly didn't hesitate, but ran toward Denise and hit her knee so hard that she was immobilized.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Denise screamed.

"Sookie, pull the needle out of his arm carefully." Carly directed. _Don't nick yourself!_

Compton shuddered as Sookie pulled the needle from his arm. "Thank you. I am in your debt. Both of you." He said the last few words with discomfort in his voice.

"We couldn't just stand by and let you get drained," Sookie said.

Compton inquired, without hesitation, "How did you know they would drain me?"

_Don't say a word, Sookie, don't say a word!_

He repeated, "How?"

Carly supplied the answer, "They have a reputation around here. They've been dealing V, and you're a vampire. Two plus two, man."

"Ah, I see." Compton then asked, "Could you please remove the silver?"

_Don't do it, Sookie! Tell him that you know you aren't safe around a vampire that's lost that much blood. We'll go back to call an ambulance._

"Is that what's keeping you so still?" Sookie asked quietly.

"Yes, silver weakens us," Compton paused, "Sookie...look at me, Sookie, you must never tell another soul of our vulnerability to silver. Now, you will take it off."

"The hell she will," Carly interrupted Compton's attempt at glamour.

"Sookie..." Compton began again. "What is your friend's name?"

"Angie," Sookie said in a far-off voice, without hesitation.

"Angie, can you look at me?" Compton's voice was lovely, but Carly refused to look. She found the horrible feeling of cresting a wave and then crashing down uncomfortable and unnecessary if she could avoid his attempt to glamour her.

"I'm not going to let you put some whammy on me, vampire."

"I'll give you my blood, Angie," Compton added. "Sookie, take my blood. You can make hundreds from it if you sell it. And drink some yourself. If you do, it will make you feel stronger, faster...sexier."

"What a pathetic attempt to pick up a woman, Compton," Eric's voice descended with him from the tree-tops, and Carly finally turned to face Compton, pushing her hair behind her ears.

In the distance, Carly could hear the faint howl of a siren. One of them, most likely Godric, must have returned to Merlotte's to call an ambulance when Carly hit Rattray in the head.

"Sheriff," Compton winced. Whether because of the silver or the realization of his predicament, Carly was unsure. "Would you mind assisting me?"

"Why yes, Compton. I couldn't help but overhear my bonded's assessment of your condition." Eric over-enunciated the word bonded in a way that made Carly shiver with excitement. "If indeed, you have lost that much blood in one sitting, I would be endangering the lives of these delightful humans in quite an irresponsible way, don't you think?"

"I can certainly see your position, Sheriff," Compton acquiesced to Eric's verdict. "I had no idea that you and this young woman were bonded."

"I had no idea she had such a great hitting arm, so we are all surprised by this evening's events." Eric walked to where Compton languished beneath a tree and squatted before him. Eric's voice dripped with menace. "Of course, the biggest surprises of the night are to discover you in my area unannounced and unexpected by your monarch, whose blood you have taken in so that he can track your movements, and to watch you offer your blood to a barmaid and her companion, attempting to glamour both of them into selling it and ingesting it. By my count, we have disobedience, possible treason, and blasphemy, all in one go."

"As you said, Sheriff, I am weak from blood loss. I was simply trying to get them to release me from the silver."

The siren grew louder, and Carly could see flashing lights in the distance.

"You are so lucky that emergency vehicles now carry TruBlood." Eric kicked the bag of blood. "If you suck down five TruBloods quickly, you should recover nicely."

"Five, Sheriff?" Compton's voice betrayed disbelief and nausea.

"Yes, I'll supervise."

Sookie asked Carly, silently, _Where's Godric?_

_Waiting to come in for the kill, I would guess. _

"What?" Sookie said aloud, suddenly.

Eric turned to Sookie and said, "I said, I'll supervise. I know you're human, but are you deaf too, girl? Go wait inside for the police."

"But?" Sookie bristled at being told what to do.

_He's protecting you, Sookie, do it. And look traumatized when they get here._

Before Sookie reached the door, two police cars and an ambulance pulled into Merlotte's parking lot. Sookie directed the ambulance to the service road and accompanied a plain-clothes police officer inside the restaurant.

A uniformed officer, with her gun drawn, approached the scene. "Sheriff's office!" She announced, "If you have any weapons, drop them."

Carly dropped the baseball bat to the ground before turning to face the officer, "Yes, ma'am."

Denise Rattray, whom Carly had forgotten, called out, "She killed Mack! And she's crippled me. Arrest her, please!"

After the officer holstered her gun, she directed the EMTs toward the Rattrays. "Is that Denise Rattray?"

"Yes, officer, it's me," Denise said between sobs, "Is that Kenya."

Finally taking in the immobilized vampire, Kenya said, "Dear Lord in Heaven, Denise, what have you done now?"

"I ain't done nothing!"

"Like hell." The officer pulled out a notepad and a pen and asked, "Who are y'all?"

Carly began by introducing herself and saying that she had been witness or party to almost all the events and identified herself as the party responsible for the Rattray's injuries.

"My..."

"Fiance," Eric supplied without missing a beat, although Carly's own heart missed several hearing the word.

"We're here visiting a friend, Sookie Stackhouse."

"Your fiance's name, Ms. Michael?"

"Eric Northman, of Shreveport," Eric said with tremendous authority in his voice. "When I realized that Carly had gone outside to confront these likely drainers by herself, I followed."

"And you, sir," Kenya addressed Compton, who was still wrapped in a fine silver chain, although he now drank a TruBlood.

"William Compton. The two ladies surmised that these people intended to drain me, so they came out to help me."

"Okay," Kenya summarized, "so Denise and Mack come out here to drain a vampire, you and Sookie come out to stop them, Mack attacks you with a knife and you crack him on the head."

"Yes ma'am," Carly answered. "And the other one tried to rush me, so I hit her on her knee."

"I did not," Denise protested as two EMTs hoisted her onto a carrying board.

"She was trying to get his knife," Carly added plausibly. "I didn't want her to get it."

"Okay, I'll check this against Sookie's story, and we'll go from there."

Compton offered, "I'm can corroborate her story, officer. That is exactly what happened."

"That's fine and all, but you don't have any legal standing in the state of Louisiana, so if this went to a court, you couldn't testify." Kenya snapped her notepad shut. "Do you need any medical treatment?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then you're free to go inside and give the detective your contact information." Kenya looked at Eric. "You too, Mr. Northman."

"Officer," Eric began, "I fear that you and I have had a slight misunderstanding."

"We have?" The officer's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Yes," Eric replied, moving slightly closer to the light cast by the ambulance and police car. "I am also a vampire, so I believe I should stay here and ensure that Mr. Compton poses no threat as he regains his strength."

"Fine with me."

Carly confirmed with Eric that she should move inside and listened in as Sookie was interviewed by a clearly belligerent detective.

"Well, that's all fine and good, Sookie," he said dismissively, "but why the hell were out there to begin with."

"I told you, Andy," Sookie's demeanor mirrored his hostility, "I thought they were going to drain him."

"Since when do you know anything about vampires and drainers and all this stuff? And how the hell did you know that? What have you gotten yourself into, Sookie?"

_Sookie, tell them that you've got a friend visiting whose dating a vampire...you've heard about drainers from him...and you heard that the Rattrays were selling V...whose your most gossipy friend, who'd like to take credit for knowing something even if she didn't?_

"Look, Andy," Sookie calmed. "I got a friend from Shreveport in town, visiting, Carly—she was out there with me—and she's dating a vampire, and he's here too. He was telling me and Gran and Jason about how people have been attacking vampires and draining them. And Mrs. Fortenberry was just telling me the other day how the Rattrays were selling V along with meth."

Carly giggled as the image of Mrs. Fortenberry passed through Sookie's mind. Her name correlated remarkably well with her image: Mrs. Four-ton-berry.

From the other side of the bar, Sam volunteered, "Maxine told me about it too, Andy."

"Oh, all right," Andy conceded. "Now, where's this knife Mack had?"

Sookie shrugged, "It should still be out there on the ground. I didn't touch it, just stepped on it."

_Tell him Denise was going for the knife when I hit her._

Sookie replied to Carly, _I already did._

Carly smiled. At least Sookie understood why Carly wanted to keep Denise on the ground.

"Well," Andy looked at his notes. "I guess that's it. You don't go anywhere, okay, Sookie?"

"I won't, Andy."

"Excuse me, sir," Carly broke in politely. "The officer outside asked me to give you my contact information along with Eric's. Can I do that?"

As Carly wrote out her address and phone number on the pad, Carly contemplated what she would put down for Eric's. Suddenly, Carly wrote out Eric's name above her own, to suggest they lived together. "Let me give you his work address and number too. That's the easiest place to find him. Eric's there almost as soon as he's up."

"Never heard of a workaholic vampire before," Detective Andy groused.

"You'd be surprised," Carly said with a smile across her face. "Thank you for all your help, tonight. I'm really grateful for the courtesy you've shown us. I never would have thought I'd crack someone in the head with a baseball bat and be treated so well and so respectfully." With a tone that rode the edge of sarcasm, "I'm sure that Sookie's pleased how you treat out of town visitors as well."

Sookie laughed. "Oh, yes, Andy. Thank you for treating my visitors so well."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

A/N All characters from True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries are the property of Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris, respectively. No copyright infringement is intended.

Yevgeny entered Merlotte's and nodded to Sam, who still stood behind the bar, waiting for the sheriff's department to depart. Kenya and Andy were outside, inspecting the crime scene and taking photographs.

"Yevgeny," Sam acknowledged with a nod in return.

"Sam. Good to see you now." Yevgeny approached Carly and said, "Eric need you. Sookie to stay with me."

"Why?" Sookie challenged immediately.

"Probably because there's a hungry vamp out there that tried to kidnap you earlier, Sookie," Sam suggested.

Clearly upset with his tone of voice, Sookie responded with hostility. "Don't you condescend to me, Sam Merlotte."

"Sookie, we just want to keep you safe." Sam's voice suggested retreat and genuine concern. "As much as I don't like the guy—no offense Carly-"

"None taken." Carly smiled insincerely, since she took great offense.

"Well, thanks," Sam smiled in return. "But he knows what he's doing. If he says you should stay here, you should stay here."

"Fine," Sookie pouted, crossing her arms and sitting down.

As Yevgeny sat down beside Sookie, Carly left the bar and walked slowly toward Eric, who stood looming over Compton. The injured vampire sat propped against a tree trunk, still wrapped in silver. An EMT squatted beside him, urging him on as he sipped reluctantly on a bottle of TruBlood. A line of empty bottles lay beside Compton's still body.

"Mr. Northman, do you think that this last bottle will be enough?" The EMT consulted Eric as he attended to Compton.

"It's the fifth, yes?"

"Yes, sir." The EMT pointed to the vampire blood. "What are you going to do with that? You probably shouldn't just throw it out."

Eric smirked at Carly as she walked around the police tape Andy and Kenya stretched around the scene. "Compton will ingest it."

"What?" Compton looked rosy, nearly bloated.

"Of course, Bill, this TruBlood couldn't possible compensate entirely for your blood loss." Eric seemed about to burst into laughter. "After all, you're still weakened and now burned. As I see it, you need to return this blood to your system."

"But it's my own." Compton stared at his sheriff in disbelief while the EMT watched the two of them closely.

"Exactly. It seems an auto-transfusion would be the safest, don't you think so?" Eric stood, exerting his full height over Compton, and crossed his arms. "Once you have consumed it, I will have Carly remove the silver from you."

The EMT raised the bag of blood and clipped the top of it before handing it to Compton, who was discarding his last bottle of blood substitute. "Here, sir. Drink up."

"Yes, Compton, drink up," Eric prodded.

Standing, the EMT said, "Well, I think that's about all I can do. Good luck to you, Mr. Compton."

Visibly nauseated, Compton said, "Thank you for your assistance."

Carly moved next to Eric, who extended his arm around her without hesitating. "He doesn't look well, Eric."

"No, he doesn't, does he." Eric squeezed Carly tightly and leaned over to nibble her ear. "Once he finishes this bag, he should be safe to transport." Speaking to Compton, "I believe you have a relative in this area, Bill."

"Yes, sheriff," he agreed. "Adjacent to the cemetary."

"Isn't that convenient, Carly?"

"Yes," Carly agreed, "it's quite a coincidence that we're here visiting Sookie, and Bill was just across the graveyard."

Compton added quickly, "I just arrived in town, so I have not been to the house in quite some time."

"I'm sure, Bill." Eric leaned down to kiss Carly as Compton sucked down his own blood. After a few minutes, when the bag was empty, Eric asked, "Carly, could you do the honors with the chain?"

Carly stalked across the space that separated her from the incapacitated vampire and began to unwrap the chain. She worried, as she began to tug at it, what Compton would do. If he tried to escape, Eric would certainly catch him. More likely, he would attack Carly and use her as a means to escape. After pulling a length off of Compton, Carly paused and wondered aloud, "Perhaps we should wait until we have him back home before we remove the silver."

"No," Compton begged. "Please, take it off now."

"On second thought, I think you're right." Eric added quickly. "Could you go ask Sam if he has an extra t-shirt in his restaurant. If we put it over him, I should be able to manage him without difficulty."

Without hesitation, Carly returned to the restaurant. "Sam, could we get a t-shirt from you?"

Carly returned to find Sam sitting with Yevgeny, shot glasses in front of them and a bottle of tequila in the center of the table. "Yeah, sure. Sookie, can you grab one from my office. What size do you need?"

"Men's large would probably work."

Sookie darted off to the office and returned moments later with a shirt. "Here you go. Why do you need it?"

"We're putting it over the silver chain," Carly explained. "I think he won't be able to bolt, but Eric needs to be able to touch him without a burn."

"Oh." Sookie asked, "Can I come out now?"

_I'm afraid they're getting drunk, Carly,_ Sookie thought. _Do you need to follow me home, cause I don't think Yevgeny should drive._

"I'm guessing that Eric will load Compton into the car, and then we can follow you back to your house and then cross the graveyard to his house."

"Oh my god. He lives right across the cemetary?" Sookie's fear inflected every word.

Carly shook her head. "No, he has a descendant who lives there."

"Old man Compton died months ago, Carly. The house has been caught up in probate." Sookie shivered. "What if those folks are locked up there?"

"I gotta go, Sookie, Eric's waiting for me. Meet us around front," Carly directed and fled the bar. Unwilling to reveal that the LeBlancs were all dead, Carly tried to put distance between herself and Sookie as quickly as possible. As far as she could tell so far, Sookie only had access to explicit thought. As long as Carly thought about how much Eric needed her help to get Compton out of the area, Sookie wouldn't be able to tell what happened. Carly also needed to figure out how to disclose what she knew to Eric without Compton catching on to her abilities.

Kenya was rolling up the crime scene tape as Carly returned with the t-shirt. "We're done here, now, Carly, Eric. You're free to go whenever you like."

"Thank you, officer," Carly expressed genuine gratitude, because Kenya had been thorough and professional throughout. Her behavior almost made up for the detective's, although not quite.

Eric pulled the t-shirt over Compton's head, keeping the silvered vampire's arms flush against his body. Once Compton was covered with a layer of cotton, Eric raised him roughly to his feet.

"Eric," Carly sought Eric's attention. "Sookie's going to meet us around the front, so we can follow her home."

"Do you have the car keys?" Eric asked.

Carly pulled them from her pocket and tossed them to Eric. "Why don't you drive with Compton in the front seat?"

"Perfect." Eric shoved Bill Compton toward the car Yevgeny was no longer in condition to drive. After getting Carly in the back seat, Eric positioned Bill in the passenger seat and secured him.

They completed the drive to Sookie's house in silence and watched her as she entered the house. Shortly after Sookie closed the door, a bear and a collie trundled out of the woods and up to the porch and lay down before the stairs panting. After a few moments, the collie scratched at the door and yelped. Obviously, the shifters were able to follow a more direct route from the bar to the Stackhouses' home. Confident that Sookie and her family were secure with the two shifters present, Eric proceeded to Compton's house further down Hummingbird Drive.

The house, completely dark, radiated southern gothic. What Carly could see in the moonlight looked derelict, neglected, and more than faintly dangerous. Perhaps once upon a time the house was suitable for human habitation, but now it looked as if it were about to collapse under its own weight.

"My keys are in my right trousers pocket, sheriff," Compton offered without prompting.

"How polite and deferential you are, Compton, when you're in silver." Eric chuckled faintly, "It does wonders for your personality."

After opening the door, Eric pulled Compton into the house. "Light, Compton," Eric ordered.

"There are lanterns beside the fireplace, sheriff."

"Carly, if you could like those while I attend to him, I would appreciate it?" Eric requested, gesturing faintly toward the far wall. "If you feel cold, you can build a fire. It could be useful."

Eric forced Compton down onto an ancient settee that faced the windows onto the porch. As Carly lit the lanterns and built a fire, Eric paced back and forth in front of the settee, his gaze never wavering from Compton. As the light in the room strengthened, Eric began to question his captive.

"So this, I take it, is your ancestral home," Eric spoke slowly, scorn dripping from every syllable. "I expected a louder welcome for you from its occupant, although I know now that he must be deceased."

Carly's interest piqued: "How do you know that, Eric?"

"I walked right in without an invitation," Eric explained. "If this descendent of his were alive, I would not be able to do so. You really shouldn't be so duplicitous, Compton."

"I apologize, sheriff. I fear that I didn't express myself properly." Compton winced. "I built this home for my wife and children, and when the last Compton died, I didn't want to see it pass outside my family. Would it be possible to remove the silver now that I am here?"

"What would be the fun in that, Bill?"

"I was under the impression, sheriff-" Eric interrupted Bill.

"Let's do away with the formalities, Compton. After all, our paths have crossed before, unless you do not recall our encounter in San Francisco. Please, call me Eric."

After another grimace, Compton said, "Eric, thank you for the opportunity to address you more familiarly. I do not see why you need to keep me in silver."

Eric leaned over Bill. "I do not see why you needed to enter my area without notifying me appropriately."

"My apologies, Eric." Compton tried to sound contrite. "I genuinely believed that as a member of Godric's court I could travel freely throughout the state."

"Ah, you seek diplomatic immunity, do you?" Eric clapped his hands together loudly and then rubbed them so quickly that Carly couldn't see. Slapping Compton on either side of his face, Eric said, "Monarchs and governments usually know where their diplomats are."

"I have had Godric's blood, Eric, he can track me." Compton said quietly, "if there were an issue, Godric would be here."

A single knock shook the front door before it swung open. The hinges creaked and then the door touched the wall behind it.

"Who is that, Eric?" Compton asked with panic in his voice.

"It's your house, my friend, who would you expect to visit? Who knows where you are?"

"No one, but you and Godric," Compton replied shortly.

As the hinges creaked again, Carly became aware of her lover's maker. "Only for the last two hours, my loyal, reliable emissary," Godric said evenly as he strolled into the room.

Compton dropped his head and said, "Your majesty."

"Loyal, reliable, truthful emissary, indeed, Mr. Compton." Godric walked to stand before the fireplace. He extended his hand to Carly, who rose with his guidance. "Ms. Michael has been entirely loyal, reliable, and truthful in her missions for me. She has been an overflowing font of information, a discloser of secrets, a staunch ally. You, on the other hand..."

"Your grace, please allow me to explain," Compton stuttered quickly. "I believe there has been a terrible misunderstanding that has perhaps put my actions in a poor light."

"I see quite well, Bill," Eric laughed. "My darling, how is your view?"

"Very good. Between the lanterns and the fire, I can see everything here," Carly affirmed.

"I count upon the fact that you have seen everything, my child," Godric turned to Carly before returning his focus to Bill.

Understanding Godric's cues, Carly sat cross-legged on the floor beside the awakening fire, straining to tune into Compton's panicked mind. Despite his relaxed mien, Compton's mind was dashing about frantically, seeking a solution to his captivity.

_A human, such faith in a human, even a pretty one...thought she was just a blood whore...must be missing something. Must figure out how to conceal Edgington's influence on me. Must surpress it. Must quiet my mind so that Edgington doesn't send his wolves to investigate or retrieve the Stackhouses..._

To Bill, Godric said with emphasis, "You see, Mr. Compton, I call Carly my child, because she and my beloved progeny are now one."

"Congratulations and best wishes, sheriff, Carly." Compton nodded toward Carly awkwardly.

"Perhaps my disclosure that they have a full bond should indicate the gravity of your predicament," Godric said as he sat beside his emissary on the sofa. "So few vampires seek that connection, the word 'bonded' does not even suggest it. You should realize how confidential that information is, and so we expect equally confidential information in return."

"Your majesty," Bill began again, "I have no information to share. I ran your errand to Mississippi and I returned. I only came to Bon Temps because I plan to make this my home."

Compton's mind betrayed a more complex chain of thoughts: _Never heard of a vampire doing this...never. She can't be entirely human if she can survive turning. If they have a full connection, Godric must have found a way to circumvent its impact on Northman. But if they're one, any harm to her while she was still human could wound Northman. They're going to kill me..._

"I heard that you have reported such an intent, although you have no right to do so," Godric said as he crossed his legs. "As a member of my court, your contract specifies that I must approve any relocation on your part."

"Yes, my king," Compton shifted course, "but the probate process was underway, and if I did not make a claim on this property, I would be unable to secure it."

"You could have purchased it when it went on the open market," Eric reasoned. "I own numerous properties around the world, including the place of my birth, so I do not understand the urgency, Bill."

Through gritted teeth, Bill said, "Perhaps I do not have the same financial resources that you do Eric, since you are substantially my elder."

Godric looked around the room and consulted Carly. "You have more recent experience with the residential market in Louisiana, Carly. What do you estimate it would cost to purchase this home in its current condition?"

Grateful to get out of Compton's head, Carly made a great show of looking around, peering into the adjacent rooms, and testing the integrity of the stairs. "I don't know how much land is attached, but I would guess, if the acreage was substantial, maybe two or three hundred thousand dollars, with another hundred thousand in extensive renovations. At most, I would guess that five hundred thousand dollars would return this house to its antebellum pride and glory," Carly advised.

Bill followed up on Carly's verdict immeditately. "You can see the urgency to make my claim, your majesty."

Godric laughed lightly before saying with a scolding tone, "Mr. Compton, do you believe that I would have brought you into my court without a full analysis of your financial affairs? You are a millionaire several times over with extensive liquid assets. Such an investment in your ancestral home would take up little of your overall net worth."

Compton's face went blank.

"Now, Compton, we begin again." Godric stroked Bill's cheek lightly. "You will share your information with me, since I made a good faith disclosure to you."

Carly took the opportunity to search through Compton's mind. _I can't disclose my own part in this...Himmler will be an appropriate scapegoat. If they focus on him, they will leave me alone._

After a few moments, Bill said, "Before your coronation, a visitor to my nest suggested that it would be profitable to acquire members of a promient New Orleans family for the purposes of blackmail."

"Really, Bill," Eric pulled up a chair so that he looked the detained vampire squarely in the eye and feigned rapt interest. "Tell us more about this dastardly plot."

With renewed vigor, Bill related, "When I traveled to Jackson, I encountered this visitor again, and he reported the first stage of his plan was complete."

"And his name, Mr. Compton," Godric prodded Bill to disclose more information. "If I am to act upon this intelligence, I require a name."

"Henry Welkin," Bill advised, looking meaningfully from Godric to Eric. "I did not know him when he stayed with us, and I do not know his status in Russell's court, although he seemed content there."

Carly watched as Bill's mind raced: _They can't know who he really is. Edgington said he feared Godric grew too close to human authorities. He might try to turn Himmler in for retribution._

"Is that so?" Eric brought the tips of his fingers together, as if he were playing cat's cradle. He looked at Compton through the gaps in his fingers as if he were a mouse who had been cornered. "Do you know where these victims are being held? We could improve our status with the human authorities if we were to return them to their families."

With apparent regret, Compton said, "Unfortunately, no. Welkin did not disclose that information to me."

Although Bill denied the knowledge, Carly heard his mind scream the information. _I hope Edgington's Weres disposed of the bodies appropriately—they would begin to stink up that Jackson office complex. One of the other tenants would call the police._

"And were there others targeted in his plan?" Eric followed up.

"I am unaware of any others," Compton lied. "Now, your majesty, I believe I have been of all the help that I can tonight."

"Not quite, Mr. Compton."

In the space of time that Carly blinked, Godric moved from the sofa beside Bill to on top of him, with his fangs in his neck, drinking deeply, occasionally spitting blood to Compton's side. Bill grimaced, but did not make an effort to get away. Carly believed Bill might actually feel some relief, since he was clearly overfilled by the blood Eric made him consume after he'd been "drained."

After discarding three mouthfuls of blood, Godric said, "There!" He dismounted Compton and stalked back over to the fireplace, where Carly remained. "Yes, there's the taste of truth. I presume, Carly, that you know much more than this liar offered."

Carly nodded to indicate yes and stood in anticipation, but Godric returned to pin Bill against the back of the couch before she could say anything further.

"So, you believed that Russell's blood would make you invisible to me, did you?" Godric's voice was closer to a bark, and Carly gripped the dusty mantle to steady herself. "And it likely would have, had I not be here in Bon Temps when you arrived."

Struggling to right himself, Compton said, "Your majesty, I do not understand-"

"You stink of lies, poisonous lies, and I tire of them, Compton." Godric hissed at him and then backhanded his subject so fiercely Carly heard bones crack. "Carly, the truth!"

With an effort, Carly said, "You're lying about everything, Bill."

"No," Compton strained so that he could move his hands. "Your majesty, I have no idea what this girl-"

"Start at the beginning, Carly," Godric gestured, "Tell him everything you know."

"Bill, you're trying to play both ends against the middle to advance yourself." Carly took a deep breath before she began again. "The Authority wanted you to bring down Sophie-Ann, but she fell first. You knew that Hadley has fairy relatives. You groomed her before giving her to Sophie-Ann, and then you sought more information about them."

Bill remained obstinately silent until Eric kicked him. "Well, Bill? What do you say?"

"These are things that happened before your reign, your majesty." Bill blandly denied the significance of the affairs and resumed his silence.

Carly rubbed her face briskly. "Okay, moving to more recent events, you shared blood with Russell thinking you could get Godric off your back. You know the LeBlancs are dead and that they were being held in a Jackson office complex. And you planned to kidnap Sookie tonight and tie her to you. You planned to hold her here and abuse her until you were able to lure her brother and cousin here as well. And you're petrified that Edgington's wolves will come out here to take a look around." Carly strolled over to stand next to Eric before she bent down to meet Compton's gaze. "That all happened since you swore allegiance to your king."

"Perhaps my information about Russell might be of use to you?" Compton asked.

"We are listening." Godric joined the other two inquisitors to stare at Bill.

"The vampire, Welkin, was Heinrich Himmler when he lived." Bill seemed to expect a big response and then looked disappointed when it did not appear.

"A known quantity, Bill." Eric brushed the information aside. "Try again."

"Russell plans to breed fairy hybrids," Compton said hopefully. "He has agents working throughout the country looking for candidates."

"Half known. We did not know he was working in other territories," Eric conceded. "It will take some finesse to reveal that to others, Godric."

"Yes. Thank you, Mr. Compton." Godric smiled. "Now, what does the authority want with the hybrids?"

"I have no knowledge of that whatsoever."

"My dear," Godric touched Carly's shoulder. "Would you mind assuring me of that?"

"I'll try, Godric." Carly stared at Compton and attempted to tune into his mind. The more frantically his mind moved, the more difficulty she had locking on to him. Finally, she sighed and walked behind the sofa so that she could put her hands on either side of his throat.

With that contact, Compton's thoughts came in on an undisturbed signal. _What is she doing? What is she? She doesn't smell at all like she did—I didn't notice it before. I thought it all was Sookie. What do they know about the authority? The authority is trying to get rid of the ancients who are not chancellors, trying to consolidate power. No one will tell me why they chose Godric. Nan has told me nothing about fairies, either. Her attitude seems so human, so Machiavellian, I don't think I could imagine her seeking out fairies, unless it was to synthesize their blood. I have no idea. And she seems to have none of the other authority officials' religious pretensions. No, what is she doing? What can she do?_

"He genuinely doesn't know anything about it, Godric." Carly returned to face the sofa.

"That is disappointing."

"Indeed, Godric." Eric still focused on Compton, staring at him fiercely. "What shall we do with him?"

"I believe we need one more piece of information before we decide," Godric's voice lowered again. "Who else is involved with Himmler's kidnapping scheme?"

"He was working with Andre initially, but I believe his only assistants are Russell's Were guards." Bill looked back and forth between the two other vampires seeking affirmation that he'd provided sufficient information.

"How many are in the pack?" Eric stood and walked over to the window.

"I believe around twenty, perhaps more or fewer." Compton lifted a shoulder to suggest ambivalence. "I never met any of the bitches or their pups."

Carly asked, "Do they know where to find the Stackhouses?"

"Yes. They know they live in the house across the cemetary from me, and they know the Stackhouse name. I didn't disclose Hadley's surname, because I believed I might be able to keep her permanently for myself." Compton didn't seem to hold any information back, now that he knew Carly could find anything he might conceal.

"Thank you, for being so forthcoming, finally, Mr. Compton." Godric repeated Eric's earlier gesture, warming his hands by slapping them together and rubbing briskly. "Now I believe it is time for our second act of the evening."

Godric returned to the door and whistled loudly. Truck lights came on, and Jason Stackhouse climbed out of his cab and skipped up the steps.

"You ready for me, Godric?" Jason asked eagerly as he held up a large black duffel bag.

"I believe we are, Jason." Extending a hand toward Bill Compton, Godric offered polite introductions. "Jason, may I present William Compton, who tried this evening to capture your sister. He is also responsible for procuring Hadley's company for the former queen, although I hesitate to protest that he did so."

"Well, yeah," Jason shrugged, "Hadley's a crap-shoot no matter what happens. But no one, no one, fucks with my sister and gets away with it." Jason glowered at the vampire, and Carly had no need to prod his thoughts for information. Protectiveness, anger, a desire for revenge, all were writ large on Jason's face.

"Feel free to strike him, if you wish Jason," Godric offered.

"Thanks, I think I will." Jason walked over to Compton and punched him so hard that his lip burst open and at least two teeth fell out.

"Impressive," Godric praised.

"I definitely feel better." Jason smiled and walked back to the large bag.

Godric reached out a hand toward Jason. "Would you hand me the leather gloves that should be at the top of the bag, as well as one of the knives?"

Jason rummaged for a moment before handing Godric a set of heavy black leather gloves and then a silver knife, which seemed unusually heavy in Godric's grasp. Once sheathed and armed, Godric pulled the Merlotte's t-shirt, now stained with vampire blood, off Compton's head. He then shredded his remaining clothes with the silver knife, until Compton sat on the sofa nearly naked.

"Your majesty," Bill begged, "I have cooperated at every turn, made no attempt to escape, and am happy to oblige you in any way that you require."

"I am glad, Bill," Godric said happily as he returned to stand beside Jason. "Would you oblige us by directing us to a blanket chest. We require a thick one, preferably. Perhaps a quilt?"

"Upstairs on my bed, my king," Compton answered, but added quickly. "I can be the most use for you as a spy. All the players know me already. I will remain in New Orleans and only communicate by phone or email."

"You are so accommodating, Bill," Godric seemed to praise. "Carly?"

Carly ran upstairs to the main bedroom, where dense energy lingered over the quilt-covered bed. Calling down to the first floor, Carly said, "Godric, it will be just a minute."

Carly climbed onto the top of the bed, submerging herself in the energy. As she allowed it to fill her, she felt awash in grief, fear, and regret. An old woman gasped for breath, her mind focused on children lost in childhood and a husband lost to war. A woman strained to birth a child, but succumbed to death instead, along with the infant. Finally, an old man struggled in vain against a youthful face much like his own. The energy filled her with the knowledge that Bill Compton had smothered his departed descendant.

Filled with the pain and suffering of death and growing fury, Carly pulled the quilt off the bed and went back down stairs. As Carly turned the corner into the parlor, she heard Bill pleading for mercy.

"Please," Bill begged again, "please, give me another chance to prove myself."

"Oh, Bill," Godric smiled again, "you shall have many opportunities to prove your mettle. I simply wish to delay that opportunity slightly."

"Carly," Eric noticed her changed countenance and spoke softly to her. "Are you all right? Was there anything incriminating up there?"

Dropping the quilt on the floor, Carly stalked over to Bill and knelt before him so that their eyes were at the same level. "Yes, my darling Eric. Bill's great-great-great-whatever-the-fuck-he-was left me a little message. Seems Bill helped the probate along a little by smothering the old man."

"What?" Bill startled. "You have no evidence of that."

Standing to her full height, which suddenly seemed greater to all four men, Carly asked Eric an unexpected question: "Was there any tradition of Valkyries behaving like the Furies in Greek mythology? Punishing oath-breakers?"

Eric chuckled in a sinister way, "No, lover, but little about you could be captured by mere legend."

As Carly's rage grew, Compton struggled to break eye contact with her, but couldn't. Taking Compton's cheeks in her hands, Carly poured the full force of the energy she'd collected, untransformed, into Compton's body. He writhed, but still couldn't break free of her hold. Once all the energy was transferred, Carly removed her hands and stumbled backward, watching Compton continue to twitch and shake.

In a whisper, Carly said, "I'm sorry, Godric. I just wanted him to feel a little of what he'd done..."

"No apologies required, dear child." Godric took her hand. "I planned to pump silver into him once he was back in New Orleans, but I believe this might be a better solution."

Blood tears streamed down Bill's face as he went still, deflated and beaten.

An additional set of lights moving up Bill's overgrown driveway illuminated the parlor, and Godric returned to organizing their party.

"Please lay the quilt on the floor, Carly, as straight as you might." Godric instructed, "Please assist Jason as he extends the net on top of it."

Jason fished a heavy net made of silver chain mail from the bag, and the two humans did as Godric bade. Carly finally realized that Godric intended to roll Compton up in it.

"Do you have another set of gloves, Godric?" Eric asked.

"No, but I believe he will not fight now that Carly has had her way with him. You should avoid any silver."

As still as a dead body, but still streaming bloody tears, Compton remained immobile as the two vampires navigated him onto the net.

When his skin touched the silver, Carly heard a sizzle comparable to the sound of an egg on a hot griddle, and smelled the odor of burning flesh made worse by the concommitant smell of metal.

Without direction, Jason covered Bill's face with the net. Carly proceeded more gingerly, bringing the silver up tight around Compton's legs and waiting until Eric moved his bare skin out of the way. Eric held Bill down with his boot as Carly wrapped him up. Removing his foot with difficulty, Eric pulled his foot out from beneath the netting.

"The straps, please, Jason."

At Godric's behest, Jason pulled what looked like webbing straps out of the bag and placed them under the uncooperative parcel, tightening them at the top.

Godric explained, "They have silver threads embedded that make them more difficult to break. We do not require the strength of chain in this circumstance, since we need only to get him into the coffin that's arrived."

Once the straps were secure, Jason ran out onto the front porch and waved a group of people into the house.

Carly recognized Nakamura at the head of the group, followed by a small contingent of guards, who were carrying a short, slightly wider than normal coffin. Carly also noticed that the men wore leather gloves much like Godric's. They grabbed Compton and lifted him up into the coffin, which Jason had opened. In the moment before he shut it again, Carly saw a reflective lining that she presumed was silver.

As Godric closed the coffin door, Compton begged, "Please, my king-"

"Oh, yes, don't worry, Bill. I will shut this very tightly, for a very long time."

Once Godric attached the three padlocks, the guards turned and left the way they'd come, followed by Nakamura. Godric walked out onto the porch and spoke quietly to Nakamura before returning to the house.

Once the four of them were alone, Godric commented, "Jason, you followed every instruction with surprising precision."

"Sir," Jason puffed up, "I was the quarterback, so I'm used to keeping all the moves in a play right up here," he tapped his temple. "Once you told me the plan, I just started putting up the x's and o's in my mind. Since we only had one player to sack, it wasn't too hard."

"I thought you were going to kill him, Godric," Carly said quietly. "I'm surprised you've let him live."

"For now, my child." Godric answered and then patted Jason on the back. "Could you put out the lanterns and smother the fire?"

"Let me go get a bucket out of my truck for some dirt." Jason darted back out again toward his truck.

"As difficult as this might be for you to believe, Carly, I may need to keep Compton alive, although he needs to suffer for his cavalier attitude, especially toward Sookie."

"What about Sookie?" Jason asked, as he came back in the house with a bucket full of dirt.

"I was just saying that Compton's attitude toward Sookie was unconscienable," Godric replied.

Jason looked blank for a moment and then asked, "And that's bad, right?"

"Yes, very bad." Godric laughed out loud. "You are growing on me, Mr. Stackhouse. I believe I will be even happier with my decision than I expected."

"Um, okay."

Jason returned to his chores while Godric smiled with amusement. "They're returning to New Orleans with Compton, and they will put him inside a crypt within the palace to await my decision."

Eric sidled up alongside Carly and said, "We should go."

When the lights went out, Godric and Jason agreed to return to the Stackhouses in Jason's truck, Godric apparently enjoying the young football player's company, while Carly and Eric proceeded overland, through the cemetary.

The two lovers walked hand in hand in silence, navigating the graves with ease. As they proceeded, Carly noticed a faint ripple of energy lingering beside one of the graves. "Can I get that, Eric?"

"What?" Eric looked at her with confusion. "I didn't hear a phone."

Carly laughed. "No, there's just some energy over there I should clean up while I'm here."

Walking into the field, Carly felt overcome with self-loathing, disgusted by herself, despondent, aware that she wasn't as she should be. She looked down at her hands, which she could see, but only through the outline of a large, heavily set man's palms. With one hand, he removed a tiny picture of a little boy—perhaps a first or second grader—from his wallet. With the other, he raised a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

"Oh, no, that was bad," Carly moaned as Eric cradled her in his arms. "That wasn't good at all," she muttered. "Help me back, please?"

"Don't you have to release something, Carly?"

"I feel sick." Carly stumbled along as Eric kept her vertical. "A suicide. He killed himself—and it just came on so quickly." Carly could feel the energy moving slowly from one limb to another, churning ever so slightly, until it finally rose to her throat as something livelier, something that she could breathe out into the world to help heal it. Exhaling, Carly felt the energy leave her, and she felt renewed. She straightened, finally capable of bearing her own weight. "I wonder if it's that uncomfortable for all the valkyries? The energy field was so faint—I wish you could see what I see."

"I believe you when you say that it's there, Carly," Eric kissed her forehead to reassure her and took her hand once again. "I'm worried about how Godric and Jason are going to present the choice to incarcerate Compton or Godric's other decision, so could we move more quickly?"

With a giggle, Carly flirted, "Are you saying you want to pick me up?"

"May I throw you over my shoulder?"

"Like a viking?" Carly teased the back of Eric's leg with her own.

Eric leaned down and pushed Carly down over his shoulder and zoomed toward the house. When they stopped, Eric said, "No, like a vampire."

As Carly caught her breath, she said, "I guess it's too late to say no." With a few seconds to spare, they beat Jason and Godric, who were pulling into the driveway as Carly regained her balance.

When all four entered the house, they saw Sookie, Hadley, Adele, and Yevgeny sitting at the kitchen table, while a bathrobe-clad Sam stood next to kitchen table.

"That's a good look for you, shifter," Eric teased. "I would have expected velour, not the roses."

"I'm full of surprises, Northman." Sam tensed and then addressed Godric. "Sir, I'm guessing that you've done away with Compton?"

Sookie recoiled slightly before asking, "You've killed him?"

"No," Godric smiled beneficently at Sookie and explained, "but he has been constrained and is on his way to New Orleans. He did not admit everything he has done, but Carly uncovered his culpability."

Relaxing, Sookie said, "Okay, so you're putting him in vampire jail?"

"Of a sort, Sookie, but he will suffer. I will not lie to you. He will endure tremendous pain, although I will not starve him or deprive him of his fangs," Godric admitted, before adding, "I do not know, however, what my final decision will be. Beyond what he has done to you and Hadley, he has also commited treason against my kingship, and I can not allow that to stand. Once all of this is resolved, he will be made an example to others who may believe me too weak to rule."

Adele added, "Please don't worry about that man, Sookie. You have a gentle heart, but he planned to hurt you and he's done wrong by Godric."

"Thank you, Adele," Godric smiled at the elderly woman. "We have more important issues to discuss. Russell Edgington, the king of Mississippi, who is behind this plot, maintains a pack of werewolves and feeds them his blood."

"Eww," Sookie squealed, "that's disgusting."

"And dangerous," Sam added.

Godric agreed with the shifter's assessment. "Yes, indeed. They function as his guards, and Compton suggested that they might be coming to investigate his distress. Compton linked himself to Edgington, so Edgington may sense something has gone wrong in Compton's plan. I fear, since Compton informed Russell's procurer of the location of your home and your family name, that they may come to kidnap Jason and Sookie."

Adele grasped her grand-daughters' hands. "What can we do to keep them safe, Godric?"

Godric moved to stand behind Yevgeny. "May I?" The were-bear moved from the chair and held it out for his king. "Adele, I would be happiest if your family were to come stay with me in New Orleans until this issue is resolved."

Hadley pulled her hand away from her grandmother and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't think I'd be comfortable back there, Godric."

"I understand, my dear," Godric nodded. "There are too many memories there for you. Compton told us that Russell was not aware of your surname, so it may be safe for you to remain, although not in this home."

Sam volunteered, "I've got an empty apartment you can stay in Hadley. I won't charge you anything."

"Mr. Merlotte, I will cover any rent you would normally charge. I will not create an economic hardship for you or for Hadley." Godric shook his head vigorously. "Sophie-Ann should have made provision for Hadley's continued support, so this is not negotiable, nor is it charity. It is my responsibility."

"Thank you, Godric," Hadley said quietly.

"Please check in daily with Mr. Merlotte. I will leave him all my contact information, which he should have as well." Returning to the Stackhouses proper, Godric asked, "Adele, I am certain your grandchildren seek your guidance in this."

"Stackhouses stand their ground," Adele said definantly, "usually. But we're not dealing with something as simple as a feud with a neighbor. The idea of a pack of werewolves coming looking for my babies-" Adele's voice hitched. "I'm grateful for your offer, Godric, and think we should take you up on it."

"But our jobs, Gran?"

"Merlotte's will wait, Sookie," Sam said, "and I'm sure Jason won't have any problem with the road department if he says his Gran needs to get some treatment down in New Orleans."

"Dr. Northman would be happy to call on his behalf," Eric grinned. "Adele, do the honors of choosing the malady."

Adele laughed and said, "Well, I think a spell of demetia would suit me just fine."

"Dementia it is, Adele." Eric asked Yevgey for his phone, and then said, "New Orleans area code," by way of explanation. "Jason, let's go outside, and you can dial your supervisor."

Yevgeny bowed slightly at Godric and said, "I prepare truck."

The three left the kitchen and the rest remained, quietly awaiting the next disclosure.

"Sookie," Godric reached across the table, "I can see your hesitation, but you have nothing to fear from me or from my retainers. A lovely young woman, Melissa, works for me and takes care of the humans who are in my employ. With Yevgeny accompanying you, Melissa will guide you around the city for some sight-seeing."

"But Gran's house," Sookie said plaintively, "what if they break in to the house?"

"They're just things, Sookie. We have insurance," Adele reassured her grand-daughter. "There's no reason to be stubborn about it."

_Sookie_, Carly thought toward the other telepath, _why are you so reluctant?_

Sookie looked up toward her new friend, and her eyes betrayed fear and want simultaneously. _I can't tell how Godric feels about me. Is he gonna let me go once I go to New Orleans with him? I don't want to wind up like Hadley...he told me he wants to claim me, for me to be his, but I don't know what that means. Is he gonna make me a slave? Will I get to come back to Bon Temps? I like him a lot, Carly, but he's not...like anyone..._

Carly didn't know what to say, or think, to Sookie, and had difficulty monitoring the thoughts that shot through her head: _talk to him...love...Godric is different than Sophie-Ann...he's good, but terrifying, kind, but cruel..._

Sookie's expression changed, and then lowered her gaze, before speaking. "Godric, what are your intentions toward me?"

Adele stood suddenly and said, "I think that you and I should get started packing." She and Hadley fled, although Sam remained stubbornly, still leaning against the kitchen sink.

"They are sincere," Godric responded. "And they require discussion, because I will not force anything on you. I wish to tie you to me, so that I may protect you, so that we may take comfort in each other, and enjoy one another's company."

"What does that mean?" Sookie shook her head and rubbed her upper arms.

Godric turned to face Carly, "Could you explain to her how you came to be tied to Eric?"

"At first?"

"Yes, please, Carly."

Thinking back to the summer, to her time in Sweden, Carly remembered how she felt once Eric healed her, even though she wasn't aware of it at the time. "When I was in Sweden, I hurt myself in an accident, and Eric gave me his blood to heal me. It happened again, but then we..." Carly felt herself blush, "became involved with each other. We exchanged blood. Our situation is a little different than yours would be with Godric, because..."

"We're different," Sookie added, "I know." She addressed Godric, "So I would have to take your blood? And you would drink mine?"

Godric took an unnecessary breath. "I would be privileged to have your blood, Sookie, but that would only be if you wished. I already have standing arrangements for feeding. Once you have my blood, you may feel more of a physical attraction to me..."

"I don't think so," Sookie broke in quickly. Backpedaling quickly as she saw Godric's face fall, "I meant," she blushed, "I don't think I could be more attracted to you."

With a smile, Godric replied, "That is reassuring."

"So," looking back to Carly, "being tied to Eric means you're his girlfriend?"

Striving to be honest, Carly said, "I don't think that it necessarily means that. With us, that's the case, but..."

Godric interrupted, "I would prefer that you be my sole romantic partner, Sookie. I will take responsibility for you and allow you to pursue whatever goals you may have."

"Allow?" The volume of Sookie's voice rose. "You mean you'd be in control of my life?"

"Perhaps I misspoke." Godric self-corrected, "Perhaps the word 'enable' would have been a better choice."

"I don't want to have a sugar daddy," Sookie said stridently.

Godric turned to Carly for a definition.

"Godric, I really don't know how to explain that. I think she's saying she doesn't want money in exchange for a romantic relationship."

Sookie continued at high volume. "I don't want to be kept, Godric. I want to work for whatever I have. I can take care of myself."

"I can tell Adele raised you to be self-reliant, and I admire both you and her for your independence," Godric began. "But I can see that you have had few opportunities in Bon Temps to learn to manage your gift and to develop the full range of your skills. I simply offer you an opportunity to do these things." Quickly, Godric added, "These are issues for the long term. I ask nothing until I know that you are no longer in any immediate danger."

"I'll be able to come back if I want to?" Sookie asked, still clearly suspicious.

Godric leaned forward to Sookie, "If I were to compel you in any way, I would not be honoring my feelings toward you. You will be free to do as you choose."

"Thank you, Godric," Sookie answered, clearly comforted. "I appreciate that." Jumping up, she said, "I'll go pack."

Sam still remained at the sink, and Carly could watch Sam's antipathy toward Godric grow as the vampire wrote out a set of numbers and other information.

"Mr. Merlotte, I thank you for your all your assistance, and I will do all I can to return the favor in a time of need," Godric promised, before handing Sam the piece of paper.

"Just don't hurt her," Sam said, his eyes locked on Godric's. "There's nothing I can do to stop you, so I won't bother trying. I like living too much."

Godric took Sam's hand in his own and said, "I did not cast you out of the room, because I required a witness other than Carly. All I said was true. Sookie will never be a captive, or a slave. If she decides she does not want me, she will leave. Adele and Jason will be equally safe, although I plan to offer Jason permanent employment."

With disbelief, Sam said, "Why?"

"He follows instructions beautifully and amuses me." Godric smiled widely. "I also believe the ladies of my court would find him charming as well."

"So you're going to put him on the menu?" Sam's tone changed back to bald hostility.

"No," Godric scoffed. "Not at all. I have a number of human organizations that I need to deal with, and I believe that he would do well as an ambassador to them. He is charming, unthreatening, and does as he is told. All three of those virtues are in short supply, Mr. Merlotte. If he wishes to live with my donors and follow their example in furthering his education, I will support that as well."

"So you're not going to feed on him, or pimp him out to other vampires?"

"No," Godric patted Sam on the shoulder twice. "Now, before I see to arrangements for transportation back to New Orleans, may I offer you a pair of trousers?"

"Thanks, but that's okay. I'll just have Hadley go to my place first. I'll probably shift back into a dog for the ride," Sam shrugged, "unless she wants to talk."

At that moment, Hadley burst into the kitchen with a suitcase. "Did I hear you talking about me, Sam?"

"Yeah, um, can we stop by my place before we go to the apartment?" Sam indicated his state of undress.

"Sure," Hadley agreed. "That's no problem. First, though, Godric, thank you very much for looking out for everyone. I'm grateful. Please," Hadley closed her eyes tightly and paused, "it's nothing personal. I just don't want to go back to the palace."

Godric attempted to reassure Hadley. "I understand completely and feel no ill will." Godric handed her a small piece of paper. "Please call if you have any concerns. And you are welcome to join your family at any point, should you feel the need."

Quickly, Hadley gave Godric a hug. As she squeezed, she said, "Thank you." Turning her attention to Sam, Hadley said, "Do you want to turn back into a dog, Sam?"

"Would you mind?" Sam cocked his head to the side.

"I think I'd like a quiet drive, and I don't want to be seen with a man in my Gran's dressing gown," Hadley laughed. "I'll go wait on the porch for you, and then you can hop in the car."

Sam turned to face away from Carly, dropped the bathrobe, and changed into a dog—the same collie she'd seen earlier on the porch with Yevgeny. As Sam trotted out of the kitchen, he turned to Godric and let out a short bark. And then Sam ran through the open door to find Hadley.

"Carly," Godric expressed concern, "you have not eaten."

"No, I don't think so." Carly thought back over the evening and couldn't recall ever getting anything from the kitchen. Compton's arrival at the bar sent everything into a tailspin. "I'll check Adele's fridge. We should probably clean out any perishables anyway, so that nothing spoils."

After cobbling together a sandwich, Carly sat back down at the table to eat. Godric seemed to stare out of the window into space, unmoving. Eric rarely went into his "downtime" state around her, but Godric clearly needed to consider a variety of complicated matters.

Just as Carly went to wash off the dishes, Adele appeared at the door into the kitchen with a couple of suitcases. "I think I'm all packed." Moving to the foot of the stairs, Adele called up, "Sookie, you about ready?"

"I'm just finishing up, Gran," Sookie replied.

Finally, Godric returned to full consciousness and said, "I am very pleased you are coming with us."

Adele smiled, "I haven't been down to New Orleans in forever. But I gotta figure out how to stop the mail. I think I'll have Sookie call the post office tomorrow and talk to Valerie. Maybe she can just hold it for us there until we get back. I don't want anyone around here if it might be dangerous."

Adele confirmed Carly's choices for discard and took the trash out as Eric and Jason returned.

"So who's riding with me?" Jason asked.

"Mr. Stackhouse, I would prefer that you leave your vehicle at your home," Godric said.

Jason looked confused, "Well, hell, we just went over there to get a bag of stuff for me. I guess I'll drive back over there and wait for y'all to come pick me up."

Eric volunteered, "I'll take it, Jason. Just give me the keys."

"You ever drive a truck?" Jason looked protective as he held out his keys to Eric.

"I have not wrecked a car in all of my years of driving," Eric smiled, "and I've driven them since they were invented."

Jason laughed loudly as he handed over the keys. "Well, I guess there's no arguing about that."

Before retreating, Eric checked in with Carly. "Are you okay?" Kissing her softly on the cheek, he said, "Just a little longer, and then I want to hold you."

Carly appreciated the gesture and replied with a smile, "I may have to cram into that little cubby with you."

Eric winked and said, "That would be fine, but there isn't enough room to move up and down as much as I'd like." In a blink of an eye, Eric was back out the door and on his way to get Jason's car deposited.

"Jason," Godric asked, "could you help me with your grandmother's bags?"

"No problem." Jason threw a military-style duffel bag over his shoulder and grabbed one of his grandmother's suitcases and followed Godric out the door toward the RV.

About to call upstairs again, Adele stopped herself as Sookie walked downstairs, changed out of her uniform into a cheerful yellow sundress and a soft green cardigan. Carly had to admit that Sookie radiated life and joy, even at the same time that she seemed so fearful.

_Thanks, Carly. _Sookie responded to the unintended compliment.

Carly started to laugh, and Adele scolded, "You know, girls, it's not polite for you to talk quietly like that. You've got to let your Gran in on the joke."

"I'm sorry, Adele," Carly voiced her contrition, "that was my fault. I just thought of how pretty Sookie looked in that sundress."

Adele agreed, "It's one of my favorites too." Hurrying on a light car-coat, Adele said, "Now, let's get out of here and get on the road to New Orleans!"


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

A/N I've written a slightly longer chapter and anticipate getting another chapter up soon. I intend no copyright infringement toward Charlaine Harris or Alan Ball.

Eric and Carly were in the cab for the drive back to New Orleans—Eric in the driver's seat and Carly as the navigator. They talked very little between themselves; instead, they trained their ears on Godric, Adele, and Sookie, whose struggled to hear one another over the loud serenade of snores from Yevgeny and Jason.

When Yevgeny had fumbled the keys to the RV, Godric chastised him roundly in Russian, presumably for drinking on the job. Yevgeny had fallen to his knees before Godric and extended his neck in submission, but Godric just directed him back to the bed to sleep without humiliating him further before the Stackhouses. Jason, still tired from his bender the night before, fell asleep beside the bear.

"Now, Godric," Adele said sharply, "there's no way I'm just going to sit in New Orleans and not be useful.

Since Adele sat next to him on the sofa, Godric turned toward her with an admiring smile. "Somehow, I knew you would say such a thing. I doubted you would be satisfied with a holiday."

"People who don't keep busy just die from laziness," Adele philosophized. "There has to be something that needs a grandmother's touch."

Godric paused, thinking, for some time. "One of my assistants, Melissa, is at work on a project for me. We have secured an apartment building for the humans who will be serving my court, but we have not yet chosen the furnishings. I want them to feel as safe and as at home as they can be, since they will likely feel somewhat disconnected from their larger communities by virtue of living with people from so many different institutions. Perhaps you could consult with Melissa and assist her as she chooses the decorating scheme."

Sookie asked, "What do you mean about their larger communities?"

"The humans who will serve as donors to the court will largely be students, although Melissa also recommends that we open it to artists as well, although I am concerned artists may have more difficulty with some of the house rules." Smiling at Sookie, Godric suggested, "If you might be interested in working with the vetting team, you could be of a great deal of help, Sookie."

"Vetting?" Sookie sought clarity on the word. "I don't really understand what you mean."

"Melissa has started to conduct interviews, along with a social worker and psychiatrist. Your abilities could be useful in determining whether the donors are an appropriate fit," Godric explained.

"Oh, so you mean I could read their minds for you?"

"Yes," Godric affirmed, "you could also use the practice in filtering out unnecessary information. I hope to have a happy and healthy donor pool that benefits as much from the arrangement as my guests do."

"Okay." Although Carly couldn't see Sookie's face clearly, she sensed her trepidation from the tone of her voice.

_Sookie, you okay? _Carly reached out to the other telepath.

_Yeah, I'm fine. It just sounds like he's building a greenhouse or a stable._ Sookie imagined the chicken farms she'd seen in the area, or the pigs that 4H members used to bring to school. _It's hard for me to realize he's talking about feeding on people. _

Carly sighed inwardly, before replying, _He's a vampire, Sookie, this is what they do. _

_But they have synthetic blood. Why can't he just drink it?_

Carly had never asked for a great deal of information about TruBlood and the other more recent synthetics that were on the market, but Eric had expressed how repulsive he found them.

_The only way I can explain it is this, Sookie. Remember, he's a king. If the Queen of England served algae shakes at a state dinner, would that improve the way people looked at her? Of course, the algae shakes could be as nutritionally complete as can be, but they taste horrible, with an awful texture, and the experience of eating them has nothing in common with eating a real meal._

Sookie's mind went quiet, and she thought about a summer when she'd been obsessed with getting into a specific bikini that she thought made her belly stick out. She'd sucked down Slim Fasts for two weeks without losing any weight, hating every minute of it, their metallic taste making her ill. Finally, she replied directly to Carly, _Yeah, okay, I get it._

Adele kept Godric busy for another hour with questions about the palace and about his involvement in reconstruction efforts. Finally, Adele propped herself up with a few pillows and went to sleep. About an hour outside of New Orleans, and an hour before dawn, Godric woke Yevgeny, so that he could complete the drive.

Eric pulled over at a truckstop outside of Baton Rouge, so that they could switch drivers and put gas into the RV. Although Adele continued to sleep, Sookie stirred, almost panicked.

"What? Are we in New Orleans?"

Godric moved to comfort her, "No, Sookie, Eric and I must retreat for the day, so Yevgeny will drive the rest of the way. When you arrive, my human staff will show you to your accommodations. You can rest and relax. Feel free to explore my home as you see fit. You may enter any door that will open to you."

"Thank you, Godric," Sookie smiled and then placed a hesitant kiss on his cheek.

Godric responded with a more earnest kiss on her lips, which Carly feared Sookie might reject. Instead, the kiss grew so intense that Carly turned away and stepped out of the RV for some air.

After filling up the gas tank, Eric smirked at her. "Why are you so rosy, lover? Miss Stackhouse must be rubbing off on you. I haven't seen you blush so much in all the time I've known you."

They kissed playfully, and then Carly explained. "Sookie and Godric are in there making out, and I stared at them a little too long. I just embarrassed myself."

"Nice to see that her stubborn streak doesn't extend as far as I feared," Eric chuckled. He lifted Carly up so that her legs could wrap around his hips and then kissed her deeply again. As he rubbed her, Carly started to moan slightly.

"Please, stop, Eric."

Carly caught a snippet of someone's thought: _Better than the show inside. Wonder how much she'd charge to let me do that to her._

"Eric," Carly broke away. "Someone's watching."

Seemingly more excited at the thought, Eric said, "Aren't you the little minx who likes to put on a show?"

Carly pushed Eric's shoulders away with all the strength she could, so Eric stood up straight and allowed her to regain her footing. "Not at a truckstop, and not to some creepy guy who wants to see how much I charge."

Eric growled, "No one should think that about you. Who did it?"

Carly climbed back into the cab. "I'm not telling you, Eric. Now just get back inside here and let it go."

Instead, Eric cast down his fangs and stalked around the cab, looking for the voyeur. When he caught a glimpse of a truck driver who was staring in their direction, Eric zoomed to the side of the truck and pulled the man, whose trousers were down around his ankles, out of his truck and threatened him.

Carly couldn't hear what he said, but she saw as Eric threw him ten feet, pulled out the keys from the truck, and launched them through the air. Vampires, she thought, would clearly never be allowed to play football. No one would be able to build a stadium that big.

Eric stalked back over to the RV and climbed in. Carly watched the truck driver struggle to pull up his pants with one good arm as they pulled out of the truckstop.

Shaking her head at Eric's misplaced show of dominance, Carly leaned her head against the extendable headrest and drifted off to sleep as Yevgeny drove the rest of the way into New Orleans.

Feeling as if she were falling, unable to control her motion either vertically or horizontally, Carly relaxed, taking comfort in a dream of her own. After the vertigo subsided, she felt the sensation of being in a washing machine, agitated back and forth, warmed in a solution that wasn't quite water, but wasn't quite a solid. She felt, if anything, buoyant, but unexposed.

Suddenly, all those sensations stopped, and Carly began to breath fragrant smoke in through her lungs and feel the crackle of a fire as resins popped within the wood. Finally coming to herself, Carly recognized that she rested in front of the cauldron in what she'd come to think of as the valkyrie control center.

"You have done well, my child," the voice she recognized as Friagabi's spoke. "You have freed the fairies, and they have begun to breed. Whether this renewal will free them from their conniving ways will be the true question."

"Niall wanted to take me," Carly reported. "Why?"

Laughter ricocheted off the walls of the cave, and Carly watched as the valkyries contorted.

"Because he is a fool," they all said together.

The valkyrie minding the cauldron said, "He wishes to control life and death. If he were to take you as a mate, he would gain power. He only revealed his own ignorance, but you showed your wisdom."

Another added, "And you discovered our other duty without any help from us."

"And another of our names, the Erinyes," a fearsome woman Carly said right into her face.

"We have many?" Carly asked.

"As many names as there have been tongues to name us, Carly," Friagabi replied. "We have many names. In punishing Compton, you have embraced your full nature."

Carly crossed her legs and sat pensive in front of the cauldron. She looked around the cave at the shimmering walls and asked, "Are you stuck here?"

The mad laughter returned. "No, Carly, we may come and go as we please, although you are the only new one who can seek us out. The others are bound in their own time and place."

"So you're not in my time? Are you in the past?" Carly recalled the warning that if she were to tamper with time, she would be bound to stir the cauldron.

"No, we are all times, all places. The waters of all realms encircle us, and we may touch them all" the cauldron-minder answered.

Addressing the creature with the paddle, "Are you doomed to stand there?"

Analyzing Carly's face with slivered eyes, the creature responded, "I mix and mix, and all times come through me. It is a gift to stand here, not a curse."

"But he who tampers with time stirs the cauldron," they all intoned.

"So I need to leave time alone. I get that, I think, although I don't really know or understand." Carly stood up and stretched, "I haven't been dreaming the same way recently, and the death dreams have entirely ended. They're waking visions now."

Friagabi considered Carly, pulling back to take all of her in. "You have awakened the little fairy within you, so stick closely to your vampires, to the slave-king and his viking. The little fairy will require your protection, since she is most ignorant of the world, but keep her from the monsters."

Carly started to laugh, and the 'ancestors' recoiled in shock. "You are all too funny, you know that? Now that the awe has subsided a little, I can see how conventional this all is. Do you have any prophecies to offer instead of my cryptic directives about Sookie."

Equally amused by her skepticism, the 'ancestors' returned her laugh, and the cave shook with their mirth. "No, Carly, but you already recognize the monsters. They will still seek her and other little fairies, until you and your viking stop them."

Carly approached Friagabi, embraced her, and said, "That's the plan, grandmother."

With a start, Carly awoke and started to giggle. Yevgeny stared at her, slightly confused. "You wake up happy?"

"Yes," Yevgeny, "I do."

They'd pulled into a huge metal building, almost like an airplane hangar, that sheltered a number of vehicles. Carly got out of the RV and stretched. She spotted a bathroom along one wall, so she summoned Sookie and Adele and directed them to it. Although she felt no impulse to use it herself, she did anyway. Perhaps her body was beginning to change as well, she thought.

When they returned to the RV, they found Jason unloading the Stackhouses' suitcases, while Yevgeny cast the few remaining perishables in the refrigerator into the trash. After pulling up a rolling laundry basket, Yevgeny emptied all the dirty linens and clothes into it. Carly hoped that Sookie didn't notice all the blood, but she did, and commented on it.

"God, Carly, why are those sheets all bloody? Did one of them spill a blood?"

"No," Carly said aloud while trying to block the explanation from Sookie. "Yevgeny, do you need us for anything?"

"No, I guard Godric," Yevgeny walked to a phone and summoned another employee.

After waiting a few minutes, during which time Sookie glared at Carly, who was thinking of the sequence of excavating remains from a dig site, the group was greeted by Melissa, who was dressed in a very flattering suit.

"Hi, Carly," Melissa greeted. "Yevgeny, Jimmy will have your breakfast and lunch down in a minute."

"Thanks," the bear acknowledged.

Melissa extended her hand, first to Adele, and then Sookie, and finally to Jason.

"Welcome to Godric's home, Mrs. Stackhouse, Miss Stackhouse, and Mr. Stackhouse," Melissa enumerated. "Your rooms are all ready for you, and Godric asked me to give you an opportunity to freshen up before breakfast."

Jason expressed his interest in Melissa right away, displaying a winning smile, "Please, Melissa, call me Jason. Mr. Stackhouse was my daddy, and I'm no body's daddy."

"That we know of," Sookie said under her breath, only to have Adele shush her.

Sookie's demeanor toward Melissa seemed extraordinarily hostile, so Carly tuned into her thoughts. _Don't you wonder why Godric is interested in a family from Nowheresville. I'm from Bon Temps, lady._

Carly got a read on Melissa and was surprised that Sookie had taken offense with what seemed, to her, like compassion. _I'm grateful that Godric called, so we could talk things out. It's been pretty clear he wasn't interested, but he said I helped him come alive again—ultimate rebound girl, I'll get to call myself. Sookie seems nice, although she's kind of glaring at me. I wonder if she's like Carly?_

Deciding to intervene, Carly said, "Yes, Melissa, Sookie's a lot like me, so perhaps you two should talk out loud to one another rather than making assumptions about each other."

Sookie looked scolded and said meekly, "I'm sorry, Melissa, I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy."

"It's really okay, Sookie." Melissa smiled broadly. "I haven't eaten either, so we can talk over breakfast."

Jason jostled for the position next to Melissa, and Carly, smiling inwardly behind as firm a shield as she could, thought that Godric may have brought the young man as a consolation prize for Melissa. Jason could definitely do, and assuredly had done, worse than the bubbly young woman, whom Carly realized shared more than a passing resemblance to Sookie in terms of her basic nature.

As they walked, Sookie reached out to Carly and said, "Hey," so Carly dropped the barrier she'd put up between them.

_Why are you shutting me out, Carly?_

_Not used to having someone else drive the car, are you? _

_That's not fair and you know it, _Sookie glowered at the other telepath as they crossed a courtyard full of late fall flowers.

"Melissa," Adele called out from the end of the line, "could we stop here for a minute so that I can look around?"

"Gran," Jason groused, "I'm hungry. Can you come back later?"

"Oh, all right, Jason." Adele trundled up to the front of the line to stand beside Jason. "My grandchildren don't have the same appreciation of a nice garden that I have."

Melissa relayed proudly, "Godric's ordered a lot of modifications since he's moved in. There are also some night-blooming flowers that are really fragrant."

As Adele got excited about the botany of the estate, Sookie returned to her silent accusations. _You're not telling me something about Melissa. What's her deal?_

Carly decided not to mince words, even if they were articulated silently. _She and Godric had a fling, but he respected her intelligence and integrity, so she came to work for him. I think she's helping him with his transitional staff, although I'm not entirely clear on all that. She's also his primary donor, but __he doesn't feed directly from her._

As they approached a side entrance to the palace, a pair of armed guards approached the party. One had a small PDA that he was unholstering as he walked toward Godric's new guests.

"Melissa," the PDA wielding guard acknowledged, "are these our new guests?"

Nodding, Melissa pointed at Carly and said, "And Sheriff Northman's human, Carly Michael."

The guard touched his stylus to the PDA and said, "Adele Stackhouse, Jason Stackhouse, Sookie Stackhouse, and Carly Michael." Looking over the group, he added, Godric has only ordered an additional key card for Jason, so please let me know if there are any other changes to be made."

"Of course, Gary," Melissa answered before sweeping her own card through a reader. After an audible click, Melissa opened a door onto the solarium.

Grateful to see Godric had made some changes, Carly watched the others react.

"Damn," Jason exclaimed, "can we go for a swim after breakfast?"

Melissa giggled, "Well, you all can, I have work to do, although I need to talk with you about when you want to go sightseeing."

Despite her clear admiration for the pool and the room, Sookie confronted Melissa about the keys. "Why does Jason get a key card, but we don't?"

Jason answered before Melissa got a chance. "Sook, I think he likes me, and last night he was talking about needing someone like me to help him out."

Melissa chimed in. "I suspect that Godric plans to offer Jason a job here."

"That's fine, but why does he get a key now, when we don't?" Sookie would not let go of the issue and was clearly displeased.

"I don't know, Sookie, but Godric told me that he does not want you to be unaccompanied. He wants you to stay with Yevgeny or him whenever you're outside the compound," Melissa speculated.

Carly agreed with Melissa's assessment, but expanded upon it. "Since you're a telepath, you are valuable in multiple ways, and are at more risk."

Sookie crossed her arms. "This is pretty high-handed."

Gran chuckled and said, "Sookie, maybe Godric should have told you that he wanted you to do nothing but go around the city all by yourself with a sign across your back that says 'Vampire Bait.'"

"Very funny, Gran," Sookie replied sarcastically. "Are you saying I just do the opposite of what I'm told to do?"

Gran wrapped her arm around her grand-daughter and said, "When it comes to the things that are best for you to do, yes. Do you remember when you started looking for jobs, and I said you should go check the library?"

"Fine," Sookie stalked off away from the group. "I get it. Melissa, could you show us to our rooms, I definitely need a shower."

Still cranky, Sookie followed Melissa silently while Jason and Gran shared a meaningful look.

Melissa led the group through a sunny breakfast room, where they were to reconvene in half an hour, and then upstairs to their rooms. Adele and Sookie were in an adjoining room that shared a bathroom, and Jason was across the hall in a smaller bedroom. "Carly, you're headed over to the sheriff's suite."

"Okay." Carly addressed the Stackhouses, "I guess I'll see you at breakfast."

With Melissa's assistance, Carly navigated to another wing of the palace where she entered Eric's suite. As she showered, she struggled with the timeline Compton suggested. If she were to take him literally, she would assume that Himmler was in Jackson, but Eric assured everyone that Thalia was closely monitoring him in Shreveport. If that were true, if he was indeed in Shreveport, then Compton must have spent some time in Edgington's court before the change in regime, or in the interregnum. And if that were the case, the LeBlancs must have been dead even before Himmler appeared at Fangtasia.

And if Himmler were in Shreveport, then shouldn't Eric get back there? It couldn't be safe for him to be away so long—for him and for Pam to be away. _Where's Pam? _

Carly tried to remember the night of the initiation. After she'd help to interrogate Nakamura, and the fairy appeared, she had a fairly substantial blank space. She had a vague recollection of listening as Godric talked to Philips and Nagy, both of whom offered Himmler up on a dish and said that they only housed him because they owed Andre a favor. She couldn't believe that three days ago seemed so far away.

Perhaps Melissa could offer more information about Pam. Carly couldn't help but think of her fondly as she opened up the closet Pam had filled for her. Even though Carly enjoyed teasing her about using Carly as an excuse to shop for herself, she could see there was a clear line of demarcation between the clothes Pam assumed were to be shared and those that truly suited Carly's tastes and level of comfort. Without any difficulty whatsoever, Carly could dress herself for any occasion, from a casual morning around the pool to a state dinner with every vampire monarch in the world.

She dismissed the feeling that she was playing in her mother's closet and dressed and brushed her teeth before returning to breakfast room. Adele groused as Jimmy served them each breakfast.

"Let me help, Jimmy," Adele demanded. "You don't need to serve this all up, since you've already made it and plated it up."

Jimmy, clearly equally stubborn as Mrs. Stackhouse, retorted, "Ma'am, you have no idea how nice it is to make something fine for guests. Ninety percent of the time I'm just plating up sandwiches for the guards, who won't even sit down to eat."

"That's fine, but you better sit yourself down at this table with us," Adele insisted.

With a laugh, the middle-aged cook said, "Yes, ma'am. You're about as tough as my grand-mammy. You two are two peas in a pod."

Adele followed Jimmy back into the kitchen to get juice, as Melissa poured coffee for all still at the table.

"Melissa, do you know where Pam is?"

"Oh, she went back to Shreveport right before you left." Melissa reported Pam's departure, although she hadn't witnessed it herself. "Marcus told me that she wanted to get back to keep an eye on things. Eric said that she was to be acting sheriff in his absence."

Carly nodded in understanding. Pam could take care of any problem that arose, and if she couldn't, she could get Thalia's help readily. If Thalia weren't so entirely anti-social, she would probably be sheriff, if not a monarch in her own right. Carly had never asked, but she was probably as old as the Pythia, since she was at least half a millennium older than Godric.

"So Pam's a friend of Eric's?" Sookie asked, as Carly realized she still was blocking Sookie out of her mind.

"His child," Carly explained. "She's about a hundred or so. She's a real character."

"Oh, yes," Melissa agreed.

Sookie looked at Melissa and then her eyes opened wide. Carly hadn't been monitoring Melissa, but she could only guess that Pam had made an outrageous pass that scandalized Sookie.

Once all were settled at the breakfast table, Jason started asking Melissa and Jimmy about their jobs and whether or not they enjoyed them.

"I've known Godric since I got started cooking, 'cause one of his human friends always liked to come out to my truck on Friday nights," Jimmy explained. "He started having me cater all his big parties, even before the revelation. For the longest time, I just thought he was this poor little anemic boy." Jimmy laughed heartily. "His right-hand girl, Isabel, used to do a lot more of the planning. She's Spanish, so if you don't know no better, you can't tell she's a vampire at all. Really pretty lady. When neither one of them got a day older, but I did, I knew something couldn't be right." Jimmy pointed to his fuzzy gray hair. "So I asked if they was different, and Godric told me. He asked if I had a problem with it, and I didn't see why. I'd cooked for him for fifteen years but he'd never taken a bite out of me. My momma died last year, and she was the only thing keeping me in Dallas, so when he asked if I wanted to move out here and cook for him full-time, I jumped at the chance."

"So he's a good boss?" Jason asked. "I haven't had many, since I've always run my own business, but I think so. I'm in charge of my kitchen and its budget. Melissa helps me plan for how many people I got to feed and when. I don't have to worry about the vampires, so that makes things easy." Suddenly serious, "the proof in the pudding will be when he has a big party."

Adele asked, "Why?"

"Right now, I'm basically done at sundown. I leave snacks ready for Marcus, if he wants to put something out for a few humans, but other than that, I can just head right out back to my place."

"You live here too?" Sookie sounded incredulous. "Isn't' that weird?"

"Not when you're planning on retiring some day, child," Jimmy exclaimed. "Every bit a money I save in rent goes straight toward my nest egg. And I'm planning a nice-old retirement for myself, swinging on a hammock on some Caribbean island somewhere. I'm not going to work until I dry up."

"I hadn't thought of that," Sookie admitted.

Quickly, Jimmy added, "Don't get me wrong, Godric's given me a 401K and all that, but it's nice to save a little extra, especially for vacations. He's planning some big shin-digs around here during Mardi Gras, so I'll have two weeks off after that."

"Wow." Jason leaned back in his chair. "Melissa, do you live here too?"

She nodded, "Almost all of us who are single do. My apartment is two doors down from Jimmy's, but I'll be moving into the new dorm when it's ready. I'll have a nice apartment on the first floor."

Adele got Melissa talking excitedly about the dormitory, and they traded ideas about decorating schemes and facilities in the dorm, and programming until everyone was done with their breakfast. Carly found she had very little appetite, but she managed to cram down some eggs and fruit before she couldn't bear any more.

Finally, Melissa offered to take Adele on a tour of the house and then down to the dormitory. "Do you and Sookie want to go, Jason?"

With a winning smile, Jason said, "I'd love to keep you company, but I hear that pool calling my name, Melissa. Sook, you up for a swim?"

For the first time since Godric went to sleep, Sookie smiled. "That sounds great, Jason. Carly, you want to come too?"

The party thanked Jimmy, who offered another fully cooked meal for lunch, which they politely refused, or access to cold cuts and salads, which they accepted, and divided into two halves. After changing into their swimsuits, Carly, Jason, and Sookie lay beside the pool digesting their breakfast before jumping in for a swim.

"Melissa and Jimmy seem happy," Sookie commented to no one in particular.

"Yeah," Jason agreed, "I tell you, Sook, if Godric offers me a job, I'm not gonna wait. I'm taking it."

"What about your house, Jason?"

Jason shrugged, "I'm sure I could rent it. I mean, Hoyt's gotta move out of his momma's house someday, and he might as well live in mine."

"Who's Hoyt?" Carly asked, since she was trying to refrain from poking around in Jason's head when she didn't need to.

"Probably about my best friend in the whole damn world." Jason smiled broadly, adding with joy, "We've been friends ever since we was little. I think it helped a little that we both lost our daddies, so we had something in common. Even though his momma raised him, she's more like a grandmomma than a momma. Mrs. Fortenberry's always seemed old."

"Wasn't she older when she married her husband?" Sookie asked.

Jason thought for a minute. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, she looks old in their wedding pictures. I guess I never really thought about it."

_Lost our daddies_...the words resonated in Carly's head, echoing back and forth. Without hesitating, Carly walked over and grabbed hold of Jason's wrist, without any explanation.

"Hey, Carly," Jason squirmed, "What's got into you?"

As Carly poured through Jason's memories, she saw the little boy in the photograph. As soon as she recognized him as the suicide victim's son, Carly recoiled, dropping Jason's hand. "I'm sorry, Jason, I just...I just wanted a picture of him in my mind..."

Without explanation, Carly ran back to Eric's suite and locked herself in it to weep. When she penetrated Jason's mind, she also learned that Maxine had lied to her son, that he thought his father had died protecting the family from a burglar. Now, she had to find some way to lock away the truth from Sookie, who would probably disclose it to Jason. And Jason, Carly feared, probably wasn't very good with secrets, although Sookie was his sister. If information wasn't about his sex life, he probably could keep it to himself.

After about ten minutes, Carly heard a knock at the door. Wishing she could ignore it, but realizing she couldn't risk alienating Sookie when she felt so vulnerable, Carly opened it. "Come in, Sookie." Looking around the corner, Carly said, "Jason's not with you, is he?"

"No, he's in the pool."

"How did you find me?"

"Jimmy pointed me in the right direction." Sookie smiled and took Carly's hand. "If this is about Hoyt's daddy killing himself, I already know."

Carly exhaled and released the firm grip she had on her mind, blocking it from Sookie's view. "And you've kept it to yourself all these years?"

"Not entirely. Gran figured it out too, but we've kept it from Jason," Sookie explained. "But Hoyt doesn't know. His momma's tried to keep his daddy a hero in his eyes. How did you find out?"

"I encountered his energy in the graveyard walking back from Compton's." Carly shook her head vigorously, "It was horrible. Usually, I see the world through their eyes—sometimes from the outside, but usually from their perspective. And he just hated himself so much, thought he was all wrong."

Quietly, Sookie asked, "Did he think he was gay?"

Carly tried to remember the emotions that passed through her, but, mercifully, their full impact was gone. "I don't know. He thought something wasn't right about him. But he did it so suddenly. It was really terrifying."

Sookie stroked Carly's arm gently and asked, "But don't you see this kind of thing all the time?"

Shaking her head in denial, Carly explained, "This was the first time I saw inside someone who really wanted himself dead. I don't think I've ever encountered a missing person who was a suicide, and," Carly thought of Anna, her friend who'd been glamoured into killing herself, "the one other person I knew wasn't in control of herself."

"That's scary."

"It was."

The two women remained quiet for a few moments, and then Sookie hugged Carly earnestly. "Let's go get in the pool. You've got to figure out what you're going to tell Jason."

As they walked back to the solarium, Carly planned her story. When Jason saw her, he hopped out of the pool. "So what gives, Carly?"

"I'm really sorry, Jason." Carly tried to look as penitent as possible. "When you were talking about Hoyt, I just started thinking of my own dad. He died when I was really little, so I never knew him. I just got overwhelmed."

Jason looked Carly over sceptically. "That's all fine and dandy, Carly, but you grabbed my arm like you were gonna tear it off."

Closing her eyes, trying to infuse her lie with as much truth as she could, Carly began. "When I was little, I spent a lot of time with autistic kids, because my mom knew how much trouble I had with distinguishing between what kids thought and what they said. When a kid couldn't say anything, I wouldn't have that problem. But usually, to understand what they wanted, I'd have to hold onto them, look inside them—the same way that Sookie does." Carly smiled at Jason and felt herself beginning to cry. "Sometimes, when they had a happy memory of something, but I didn't, I'd grab hold of them so I could feel all of it. When you started talking about Hoyt, and how close you were, I just wanted to see what it was like—to have close friends when you were little. I missed out on that."

"Shucks, Carly," Jason opened his arms and gave her a damp hug. "You can borrow my memories whenever you like—until I was fourteen that is. Once girls come in the picture, you probably wouldn't want them."

Carly started to laugh at Jason's dimwitted sincerity, but sincerity nonetheless. At that, Jason grabbed her around the waist and tossed her in the pool.

"Now we're even, Carly," Jason said as he cannon-balled after her.

The three of them enjoyed cavorting in the water until Melissa and Adele returned from their tour. Adele plopped down into a chair and exclaimed, "You will not believe this place, Sookie. It's not really just a house. I think this must have been a plantation! You should have come along."

Melissa suggested, "I don't know how it compares with other estates in the area, but it is amazing. I can take them around later if they'd like. I think you all will be impressed. Godric bought a lot of the art that was already in the palace from his higher ups, but he brought some of his own."

Sookie asked, confused, "I thought he was king?"

"Yes, but there's some kind of hierarchy above him—or alongside him—and the other monarchs. I don't really understand it too well, and he seems kind of reluctant to explain it in too much detail to me." Melissa shrugged after this explanation, but added, "He says that it's best humans don't know too much about their structures."

Adele laughed, "And people thought FEMA was the shadow government! Huh!"

Melissa elaborated, "Godric told me that if the queen before him had been better, Katrina wouldn't have been so hard on New Orleans, but that she only really cared about herself."

"That's what Hadley's told us," Sookie agreed.

The quintet continued their discussions and speculations about vampire and human politics over sandwiches, and then retired to their rooms to change into regular clothes. Adele decided to stay behind and take a nap, while Melissa led the younger Stackhouses and Carly around the palace.

"How much of it have you seen, Carly?" Melissa asked.

Carly sensed walls growing up in her mind around the initiation, around her vision of Murtagh, and the dungeon, without any effort on her part. It was as if the mystery itself rose up to protect itself. "Not a lot," Carly answered almost honestly. "Beyond where we've been today and Eric's suite, I've only seen Godric's library. I could probably lose myself in there for a few weeks."

"Oh," Melissa said excitedly, "and that's not even his archive. He has a whole huge room up on the second floor of the residential wing that includes all the old stuff that was hoarded away since who knows when. He's thinking about hiring a professional librarian—there's one in New York who seems like a good candidate, because he's a vampire too-"

"A vampire librarian?" Jason started laughing. "I can think of lots of things I'd like to do with staying young forever than be a librarian."

Correcting Jason as gently as possible, Melissa commented, "Well, I don't think he was particularly young when he was turned, and not all of them are. I've met a couple who were pretty well-on in years."

"And if you really loved books, Jason," Sookie added, "it seems like you'd want enough time to read all of them."

"That's what Godric says," Melissa agreed and then said sadly, "He said learning new things and languages has been the only thing, besides Eric, that's kept him going the last few hundred years."

_Godric's been sad?_ Sookie asked.

_Yes, very much, Sookie; but he seems to be getting better, even though I don't know if he wanted to be king at first. But he wanted to make sure his son was okay._

Sookie said aloud, "It's still so hard to remember that Eric's Godric's child. He looks so much older."

"You have to remember not to judge a book by its cover," Melissa counseled, "when it comes to vampires. There's lots involved in how dangerous they are, how old they are, who their maker was, why they were made."

"Why they were made?" Sookie wrinkled her nose at the idea.

"Godric hasn't gone into a lot of detail, but he told me that a maker's desires condition who he turns," Melissa explained. "And then their relationship with one another sets the foundation for what kind of vampire he'll be."

Carly focused, as much as she could, on the building. "Should we start at the top and work our way down, Melissa?"

_What do you know about Godric's maker? _Sookie asked telepathically.

Sighing inwardly, Carly thought only about the Roman Colosseum, but that, necessarily, brought to mind Roman slaves and gladiatorial games, and infinite other types of brutality. _Sookie, you should ask Godric about that, although I don't know if he'll talk about it with you. He wasn't a good man, and it took Godric almost a thousand years to recover from him._

_A thousand years?_

When their eyes met, Carly could see tears welling up in Sookie's eyes, which she tried to wipe away without anyone else noticing.

As they climbed the central stairs to walk into what Melissa called the "public wing," she began to point out important paintings, particularly those that Godric had brought with him.

Sookie exclaimed, "It's like a museum in here."

"Godric loaned one of his paintings to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York for an exhibition of Van Dyck. He said it was a portrait of one of his old friends," Melissa enthusiastically reported.

At the end of the abbreviated hallway, a set of double doors opened onto a majestic ballroom. "This is where all his big events will be. He said that once he has all the bureaucratic stuff taken over, he'll have a lot of responsibility to entertain."

Through another set of doors beside the entryway, they walked into the formal dining room, complete with a dumb waiter that brought food up from the kitchen below.

All three of Godric's guests took a sharp breath inward when they saw the massive painting hanging above the mantle. From the lighting to the pose, the painting reminded her of "The Moorish Chief," by Charlemont. She couldn't see the signature beneath the ornate frame, but the composition of the painting, with Godric bare-chested, proudly displaying his tribal tattoos, kneeling squatting anxiously before the viking warrior Eric, was breath-taking. Both men looked fierce, as if they were ready to burst out of the frame to do battle. The message it sent to Godric's guests—that Godric and his progeny were an unstoppable force not to be crossed—was unmistakable.

"Wow," Sookie said quietly, "they look just the same. And Godric's tattoos...where did he get those?"

"I think he's always had them," Carly offered.

Leaving the dining room, the group went into the "residential wing," which Melissa explained was just the residential portion of the original mansion, which had been added been onto a number of times over the years. Not only the solarium, but an entire wing of bedrooms had been added to the palace over the centuries.

The main attraction, at least for Carly, in the residential wing, was the archive, so when the group arrived there, Carly begged to stay for a while and poke through boxes, cabinets, and shelves. The room appeared to be a converted parlor, with the same high ceilings that other rooms had, but these were filled floor to ceiling with shelves. Carly turned her attention first to to a bookshelf with a label that read "La Maison." Within she found old architectural plans that recorded all of the renovations and additions over the years, including plans for the "wine cellars," where she'd been initiated into the mystery and where she'd seen Murtagh in her vision.

Carly wondered what other poorly concealed secrets the archive held within. Moving on to a set of shelves marked "Les Rois," Carly imagined that Sophie-Ann, as one of the longest serving monarchs of North America might have quite a store of secrets about the other monarchs.

On lower shelves, well within Carly's unassisted reach, Carly found records about the other kingdoms in the south. Most of the records, at least the early ones, were written in French, Sophie-Ann's native language. The newer records mixed French and English. One set caught her attention, particularly. Sophie-Ann had collected boxes of material concerning the kingdom of Mississippi. She had retained a hundred and fifty years of correspondence from the first monarch—a vampire originally from West Africa, Sassouma Djati, who ruled the vampires of Mississippi as Sam Jones. The idea astonished Carly—an African ruled among the vampires in one of the most brutal of the slave states. From what she gathered from the correspondence, there were only about fifty vampires in Mississippi and they found it difficult to travel amongst the plantations. Their only success, apparently, was among the landowners, not within the slave quarters. After the Civil War, Russell Edgington moved to the state from Barbados and seized abandoned plantations, and his earliest letters to Sophie Ann, even prior to his coup, suggested that he required her complicity, otherwise he would take over Louisiana as well. His most recent letters included long, eccentric proposals that they merge their kingdoms. The "love letters" included lists of all her desirable assets; the list included Andre, Hadley, and Eric. In addition, Russell offered elaborate financial aid packages in exchange for her pledge. No wonder Edgington was annoyed when he wasn't given Louisiana.

Russell's letters also spoke cryptically about Sophie-Ann's "experiments" that Russell wished to continue. He also suggested, threateningly, that if Sophie-Ann didn't disclose the secrets of her "program," he would find the means to begin on his own, since his "coordinator" was now ready to release into the "wild." Russell wrote, "My protege has finally, to my relief, learned to control his urges, so his talents are ready to exploit." He also reported, "His human years uniquely prepared him to mobilize intellectuals and thugs, and, as you know, my dear little bird, I enjoy the company of both equally."

Carly continued to poke around the archive, aimlessly enjoying the mountain of information, haphazardly organized and ripe for discovery. On a high and unmarked shelf, Carly found a heavily annotated copy of Robert Kirk's _The Secret Commonwealth_, the 17th century treatise on fairies, witches, and extrasensory perception. The French annotations, as best as Carly could determine, compared Kirk's text with Sophie-Ann's own observations of fairies, at least of Murtagh.

Continuing to comb through the shelf where she found the book, Carly excavated a couple of very dusty museum boxes intended to store loose documents and artifacts. When she opened them, she nearly vomited. Within, Carly found dried skin, a flask of dried blood, and what looked like dried organs labeled "Creole de fay."

"Yuck," Carly spat into a nearby trashcan. "Mixed fae—probably hybrid. Gross."

"I should have expected to find my beloved scholar knee deep in dust," Eric's voice startled her, since she hadn't registered that the sun had set nor that he had awakened.

"Eric," Carly smiled at him after recovering her composure, "I didn't sense you wake up. I wonder what's wrong?"

Eric encircled her in his arms and whispered, "Nothing's wrong, I'm sure, my beloved. You were just occupied. I've seen your focus while you work, and it's impressive. The world could be crashing down around you and you wouldn't notice." As he nibbled on her ear, he said, "Tell me if you feel this."

Without warning, Carly felt a wave of arousal stronger than anything she'd ever experienced hit her and every limb slackened as she opened herself up to him. "Oh my god," she gasped. "I felt that."

"Good," Eric chuckled. "Stay right here, then."

Flashing back to the door to lock it and then back to Carly, Eric pulled down her jeans sharply, turning her over onto the table face down. Carly desperately shut the museum box before Eric swept it away and only just managed before he plowed into her at full force.

As he penetrated her, he pulled off her shirt and her bra—being careful for once not to tear them—and drew her up toward him. Carly felt her thighs bruise against the edge of the table, but she didn't care anymore once he began to stroke every inch of her. Finally, Eric wrapped his arm around her throat, drawing his wrist close to his face. Carly heard his fangs descend just a moment before he pressed his wrist to her lips. At her first draw of blood, Eric sank his fangs into her neck and drank. The two of them burst into orgasm, and Carly felt his as strongly as her own. As the fell down the crest of bliss back to earth, Eric licked her neck and pulled his wrist away.

He turned her over to face him, and they kissed each other as if they were starving for one another. As Carly felt him harden again, he said, "Godric needs us downstairs, but I would keep you here all night if I had my way, Carly." Before he allowed her to move, he licked away the evidence of their union from her body and helped her dress. His attentions brought her to her peak again, and she felt him shiver before her.

"Are you going to be okay?" Carly asked, breathless.

Eric winked at her and said, "I have a thousand years of willpower, my darling."

"I didn't know that," she smirked. "I've never seen you use any."

Carly grabbed the offensive museum box and walked toward the door. Eric smacked her ass as she walked away and said, "I'll turn you over my knee for that disrespect little girl."

Still moving, Carly turned and pouted, "You keep promising, but you never do it."

The two of them continued to tease and banter until they came to their own suite, where they could change into less dusty clothes and wash their faces. Carly struggled to keep her hands off of Eric, since he was still visibly aroused. Experimenting with their bond, Carly revisited the feelings she'd experienced when she'd opened the box and heard Eric groan.

"What did I do to deserve that?"

Carly smiled, "I was just trying to help you gain your composure. I don't want Sookie to be too jealous of me."

Eric winced. "Well, whatever that was, it worked." Cuddling up to her, Eric said, "Although a virgin like her might be more frightened than aroused."

The two returned to the main group, who had repaired to the dining room. Jimmy had put together a buffet supper for the group that Marcus was reheating and putting out in the kitchen.

"Ah," Godric acknowledged when he saw Eric and Carly, "my sheriff and his beloved finally emerge."

"Our apologies for the delay, your majesty," Eric nodded toward his sovereign. "I hope we haven't delayed the festivities."

"We have not been festive, I fear," Godric reported. "Thalia called to complain that you did not respond to her calls."

Eric pulled his phone from his pocket and passed it to Godric. "As you can see, she is simply using an excuse to avoid me and talk to you."

Godric nodded with understanding. "You have alienated her, Eric, with your teasing. I warned you to keep your contact with her restrained."

"Teasing Thalia?" Carly grinned mischievously. "Do I have competition?" Carly admired the small, pugilistic Greek vampire, largely because she seemed stubbornly impervious to modernity. Thalia continued to sleep in the ground each night and preferred solitude to any other state. For whatever reason, however, Thalia seemed to like Carly, especially because she seemed to recognize her as something "other," even though the two women hadn't discussed it in detail.

Growing uncomfortable, Eric said, "No, my love, Godric is referring to one episode five hundred years ago that required nearly a month of recovery. I don't understand the relevance. I simply think that she prefers to talk with Godric rather than me."

"You do not speak her language, so that may be one issue. My Greek is far superior to yours and closer to her native tongue. In any case, Eric, she says she requires the two of you back in Shreveport as soon as possible, because she fears she will kill Himmler by the end of the evening if you don't relieve her of her responsibilities."

"Four days?" Eric exclaimed. "She can't tolerate him for four days?"

"She claims that he talks too much," Godric explained. "She understands his value to us and is reluctant to have to engage Edgington if she kills his progeny."

"So she plans to leave that to me? How thoughtful of Thalia." Eric grimaced and looked to Carly for her decision.

Carly thought about the situation for a moment. "Wait, Godric, isn't Thalia almost as old, if not older than Edgington?"

"Yes," Godric admitted, "but Russell does not fight fairly. She hates him desperately, but has not sought battle with him in over two and a half millenia."

Sensing her concern, Eric asked, "Why are you troubled, Carly? We also have to address the issue with Compton. Placing them together might be to our advantage."

Compton's face returned to her mind as she remembered pumping all the horror she'd witnessed in his bedroom, and Carly wondered how she would react to meeting Himmler. Compton, a minor villain by comparison, infuriated her and disgusted her, and she was overwhelmed by a murderous rage. How would she react to him?

"I was just wondering why Thalia thought I should be there as well," Carly smiled weakly at Godric and tried to be as restrained as possible and keep her worries from upsetting Sookie.

Godric nodded and explained, "Thalia became annoyed by the historical questions Himmler asked. She believed that you, as a trained anthropologist and a skilled archaeologist, might be able to keep him distracted."

Carly closed her eyes in frustration. "So you want me to keep him distracted and pump him for information?" While Sookie had direct contact with Carly, Carly needed to conceal the full range of her abilities, especially the access she had to vampires' minds.

"Essentially," Godric affirmed Carly's characterization. "Now that you," Godric pointed to the Stackhouses, "are here, and we know the LeBlancs are dead, we need as much information as possible before I can reveal any information to the other monarchs."

_Sookie, _Carly reached out to the other telepath, _will you be okay without me? I don't know when I'll be able to come back to New Orleans. Eric and I also have to go to New York a few days from now, or at least I have to. Eric's expected._

_I think I'll be okay..._Sookie's thoughts were chaotic, full of fear, and longing.

"We need to go to New York in a few days, Godric," Eric mentioned, startling Carly who was visibly jostled. "I hope that we will be able to use the opportunity to communicate with other monarchs or their emissaries."

_Carly, can Eric read your mind?_

_I don't think so, _Carly replied silently.

"Eric," Carly asked gently, "why are you bringing that up now?"

"I thought you wanted to go to New York and talk with your aunt?" Eric took Carly's hand to comfort her. "Why are you now anxious?"

"I'm not." Carly shrugged. "I was just explaining to Sookie that I wouldn't be back right away."

Kissing her hand, Eric whispered, "Just because we thought of something at the same time, that does not mean that I can read your mind, lover. I have wondered recently whether Russell or his partner might attend the showing, since he's known as a collector."

Godric interrupted. "I will contact Jean-Jacques to discover who has requested his permission to enter. Even though Russell came into my territory unannounced, Jean-Jacques is too well established and well-respected to be defied in that way. And his financial resources far outweigh Russell's. They outweigh all of ours, perhaps even together."

Eric stood from the table, patting Carly's hand and letting go. "I should call Anubis to see if we can get a plan with such little notice."

"Eric," Godric said as he stood, "I have something else to show you that might eliminate the need."

Godric zoomed off with Eric following at top speed.

"Damn," Jason stackhouse exclaimed. "That's freaky!"

"Are you used to that?" Sookie asked at full volume.

Carly laughed, "No. But they seem to use it with one another more than with me."

From the other room, Carly heard Eric's laughter, and his lilting voice say, "Carly, come to me."

The Stackhouses looked concerned, but Carly said, "Don't worry. I have a feeling that this has to do with Godric's 'Flying Carly Bjorn.' It's nothing to worry about." The three looked at each other with confusion as she left the room.

When Carly saw the vampires' "surprise," she started to laugh hysterically. Eric wore a black balaclava that concealed everything but his eyes, in addition to his usual black leather jacket, jeans, and motorcycle boots. Hanging gingerly from his hand was a huge, full-body bunting in non-reflective black nylon.

Godric seemed perplexed by Eric's and Carly's amusement with the insulated garment. "Carly, you seemed to have no objection to the harness. Why does this win your derision?"

Carly skipped over to Godric quickly and took his hand, which seemed to confuse him almost as much. "Please, I don't mean to be derisive. I think it's great, really, it just looks like a huge post-industrial baby snowsuit."

"Yes," Godric replied with enthusiasm. "I thought it might allow Eric to fly with you over longer distances and at higher altitudes."

Eric still didn't move from his pose as a coat-hanger, but allowed Godric instead to give Carly a full briefing on all the features of the bunting. "The suit will insulate you down to zero degrees Fahrenheit, and there's a small oxygen tank stored here," Godric unzipped a panel on one arm of the starfish, "and you turn it on at the top of the tank."

"Thank you, Godric, for thinking about my safety and comfort in so much detail." Carly felt sincere I her thanks, because she'd wondered what would happen if Eric climbed to high or too quickly. Unable to resist, Carly raised Eric's balaclava above his lips and asked, "But I don't understand why Eric needs a mask."

Godric raised his eyebrows and explained, "Its fabric deflects radar signals, which seemed prudent since you live so close to an Air Force base." With a smirk, Godric added, "It will also keep his hair tidy and his identity concealed."

"My darling," Eric said dramatically, "we will look like a massive, deadly balloon descending from the sky, full of menace."

"Sounds terrific," Carly laughed.

"I do advise you put it on outdoors," Godric placed the harness aside on an upholstered bench in the hallway. "First, of course, you need to eat, both of you."

When they returned to the dining room, the three guests from Bon Temps were returning from the kitchen with their dinner. Carly, Eric, and Godric retrieved their own dinners. The vampires entered the dining room with two large, opaque glass goblets of what Carly recognized immediately as human blood, while Carly brought back a selection of Jimmy's delicacies.

Adele asked the Stackhouses' burning question. "Carly, what is the Flying Carly Bjorn?"

"Is that what you called it?" Godric asked. "Do you think it would be a trademarkable name?"

"No, Godric. I think something more like 'Keep your human from panicking,' might be better." Carly smiled at the inventor and vampire king. "Eric and Godric can both fly, so Godric developed a harness and insulated suit so that they can carry passengers with them."

"That's fucking cool!" Jason's profanity was followed immediately by hateful glares from both Adele and Godric.

"Thank you, Godric," Adele said. "It's simply not necessary to curse that much, Jason. There are other words in the language, after all."

"I agree, Adele," Godric added. "And if you find English lacking, you should learn another language, Jason."

Everyone at the table chuckled, including Godric—after a few moments. Dinner continued with discussions of vampire abilities and disabilities. Godric and Eric both shared amusing anecdotes about overconfident vampires who thought they were immune to electricity or radiation, but learned otherwise, along with stories of special abilities that manifested at inopportune times, such as the vampire who discovered extraordinary speed only after he was halfway across the Caspian Sea.

After dinner, Godric, Marcus, and the Stackhouses watched eagerly (and with great amusement) as Eric zipped Carly into the huge insulated suit, whose limbs were so stiff, she couldn't even contemplate bending her elbows or knees, needless to say lift a limb to step into the harness.

As a result, Eric strapped her into the harness and then brought her up on his back. "I'm glad I don't need you to navigate," Eric said jokingly. "Do you want the oxygen on?"

"How high will you go?" Carly wondered when supplemental oxygen was necessary, since she'd never flown in an unpressurized plane.

"Five thousand feet will probably be safest, so I don't believe the oxygen will be necessary," Eric counseled. "In addition, I don't know if I could safely fly at an altitude that high for any length of time, because I might freeze solid. And that is most uncomfortable."

Godric groaned slightly. "I hadn't considered that, my friend. Perhaps I was overzealous in my design."

"I am grateful, nonetheless," Carly said, although the words of thanks were muffled by the suit.

With that, Eric took off and flew at top speed toward Shreveport. In about forty-five minutes, the two of them touched down outside the employee entrance of Fangtasia, where Thalia had told Godric she would bring Himmler. Eric disengaged himself from the harness quickly, but picked Carly up and carried her into Fangtasia.

"What?" Carly objected, "Why didn't you take it off outside? Please, Pam's going to tease me horribly."

"About what?" Pam asked from behind Eric's desk. "I can't wait to hear."

Eric placed Carly on the floor before the desk and said, "You don't have to wait to hear, Pam. Just use your eyes."

"Oh, my god," Pam said laconically. "This is really the most inefficient S & M get-up I've seen, Eric. There better be a good payoff for all this trouble."

Sighing, Carly said, "No, Pam, it's a flight suit that Godric designed for me so that I wouldn't get cold when I fly with Eric. There's a harness too, so he can keep his hands free."

"Flight suit? You look like an oversized Goth toddler in her snowsuit," Pam smirked. "It's a good look for you, Carly."

"Ha, ha," Carly scolded. "Please, get me out of this marshmallow outfit before I fall over and can't get up."

Eric obliged, laughing quietly, "I just couldn't resist, Carly, do you forgive me?"

"I model everything else for Pam," Carly shrugged, once her shoulders were free, "why not this."

"Speaking of which," Pam said, investing each syllable with meaning, "I brought an outfit that I thought would be good for keeping a Nazi's attention all night."

"Thalia's talked with you?" Eric asked.

Pam nodded. "Yes, she called me first, then Godric," she smiled, "oh, and I forgot, your phantom phone in between." Winking at Carly, she added, "She said I'd have to take him off her hands if you didn't get back in time. I'd planned just to string him up, since that used to be one of his things. He had a reputation for kink."

"Nazi and kink seem like they should be synonyms," Carly commented.

Pam smiled her predator's smile and said, "Well, sweet-pea, let's get you ready for him. I decided Indiana Jones chic was the way to go."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A/N TruBlood and all characters related to it are the property of Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris.

"Are you sure that this just isn't too ridiculous to be taken seriously?" Carly asked as she stared in the mirror. Pam had her in retro-styled khaki short-shorts and a silk blouse, over which she had a super-short brown leather trench coat that seemed to have seen substantial wear. The only part of the outfit that seemed comfortable or at the very least "archaeological" were the boots, which she loved. Pam indicated that they were particular favorites of hers, but Carly bet if she found something particularly exciting in New York that they could engineer a suitable trade. At the moment, Pam was styling Carly's hair into a tight 1940s chignon.

Turning her around sharply, Pam prepared to apply make-up—a step they usually skipped since Carly hated the way it made her skin feel. "We're not talking about a rocket scientist here. We're talking about a cruel, self-satisfied, self-important intellectual midget who thought he was the reincarnation of a medieval king."

"But you don't think he'll find this a little unsubtle?" Carly worried that Himmler would recognize an effort to gain his attention and exercise additional caution.

"Thalia says that he sits for hours watching the History channel, taking notes about all the things they neglect to say about him. He wants to think he's done great things and that eventually he'll be seen as an intellectual pioneer." Pam grunted. "That's the problem with turning people who were famous in their own time. They spend the rest of their existence pissed off that people aren't paying them homage."

Finally, Pam turned Carly back around toward the mirror. "See, you're the sexiest academic pinup there ever has been. You could get temples to dig themselves out of the dirt just so you could walk around them."

Carly had to admit that Pam could do miracles with makeup and costume, although she invested most of her efforts on herself. "You should work with movies, Pam. I mean, I really do look terrific. Or Broadway plays."

"Until Eric decides he rather be somewhere else, I'm happiest here, because I'm with him." Pam smiled. "And you're not terrible, either."

Carly turned and hugged Pam and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "To be told that I'm not terrible, by you, is the biggest compliment I've ever had."

With a smirk, Pam added, "Well, maybe you'll start putting out one of these days too."

The two women laughed loudly, which seemed to draw Eric back to the office.

"Is all well?" he asked.

Carly stepped into the center of the office and turned slowly before him, dropping the trench coat down and flipping it over her shoulder like a runway model.

"You're missing one thing, my beloved," Eric said as he strolled toward her.

"What?" Pam demanded. "I think she's delicious."

"You promised me Indiana Jones, and I see no whip." Eric slowly over-enunciated the last three syllables in a way that made Carly weak at the knees. Without touching her, Eric swooped down and kissed her passionately.

When Eric withdrew from her, Carly teetered a bit, but Eric steadied her. "Are you ready, lover? Thalia's out there glowering, and I fear a repeat might be in order if we don't get you out there soon enough."

Carly wondered, "What did she do to you?"

Eric stood straight and said, "I prefer not to discuss it, or think about it. But, I will say that she separated me from something I feel very strongly about."

Carly's imagination ran wild. Perhaps Thalia kidnapped Godric, or took Eric's sword. Before Thalia fled Himmler's company, Carly would ask her.

"All right, lovebirds, let's get out there before Thalia loses her shit," Pam cautioned. "Remember, Carly, keep him happy until closing and try to get him to spill as many beans as possible. Thalia promises she'll take him back as long as she gets a break to go do whatever it is she does." As they walked onto the floor, Pam said, "Give me five minutes to get recorders running and then take him back to Eric's office. I'll introduce you. Thalia told him that Eric shares with 'honored guests,' so he'll probably try to get Eric's okay before he puts the moves on you."

"And if he puts Eric's kind of moves on me, what do I do?" Carly wasn't happy about the possibility of being pawed by a monster.

Pam shrugged almost imperceptibly since they were now in view. "Just do what you do, except for the killing part."

When Pam and Carly reached Thalia and "Henry Welkin," Carly observed that Welkin was behaving just as Thalia described. He was talking actively, and Thalia looked as if she were choosing mice to eviscerate.

Pam strolled laconically and said, "Thalia, Mr. Welkin, may I introduce Carly Michael, one of our preferred pets around here."

Nodding to both of them, with one hip out seductively, Carly smiled and said, "It's truly an honor to meet you, Mr. Welkin. Although, sir, please let me tell you that I would prefer the honor of calling you by your birth name."

With the slightest German accent, Welkin said, "You recognize me, Miss Michael?"

Striding closer to him, Carly said, "I don't know if Thalia mentioned it, but I have a PhD. D. in anthropology, and I've worked extensively on neolithic, iron age, and medieval excavations. Your visionary support for the science made all the difference. After the," Carly paused, inwardly cursing herself for speaking with the man, "unpleasantness is forgotten, or put into perspective, I'm sure you'll be remembered for what you did for our field."

Himmler stood, placed his right hand over his heart, and bowed deeply. "You honor me, Miss Michael. Thank you for your kind words. I should have expected the pet of such a paragon of Aryan virtue to recognize the importance of my work." When Himmler said "paragon of Aryan virtue," he gestured and looked toward Eric, who nodded in acknowledgment and made a gesture that suggested, "enjoy."

Now that Himmler had taken their bait, Thalia returned to the conversation in her—Carly suspected self-consciously—stilted English. "Henry talked often of archeology in these last days. I prefer geology as a science. Earth will outlive us all." Removing something from her pocket, Thalia said to Carly, "It has reminders of all kinds for us. It tells us much about who we can trust." With a swiftness Carly couldn't see, Thalia grasped Carly's hand and placed a velvet pouch within. "I have gift for you. You tell Eric and our beloved king, yes?"

As Thalia's gaze bore into her, Carly asked, "Of course. Thank you."

"Open later, but you can tell what it is from outside," Thalia directed.

With just a moment of having it in her hands, Carly could tell it was a crystal of some kind. With a start, Carly realized that Thalia offered her a message she never would have expected—she was an initiate to the mystery as well.

Carly slipped it into an interior pocket of her trench coat and nodded to Thalia.

"Thalia," Pam drawled, "I'm hurt. No presents for me?" With a thrust of her hip, Pam amplified her pout.

Thalia gestured toward Pam dismissively and answered, "When you deserve it, Pam. Carly deserves my admiration now."

With that, Thalia walked away from the group without further explanation, and Pam offered a forced smile and returned to the office.

Himmler chuckled imperiously before saying, "Thalia does things her own way. That much I have learned in our short time together. Few things amuse her, so if you deserve her admiration, Carly, I look forward eagerly to our time together this evening."

Beginning with suitable small-talk, Carly asked, "How do you like Shreveport, Heinrich?"

Himmler closed his eyes and raised his nose, in a gesture that clearly suggested disdain. "I find it provincial, but there are numerous opportunities here."

"Really?" Carly thought to encourage him to elaborate on his "opportunities."

"Yes, earlier this year I became interested in property in Shreveport, and there seem to be many opportunities for development here," Himmler answered.

"What kind of property? Commercial or residential?"

"Residential, primarily. Industrial spaces renovated for residential purposes." With a disconcerting smile, Himmler said, "My first outing into the market did not go as I planned, because of local intervention." He glanced almost imperceptibly quickly toward Eric and then returned his attention to Carly. "I am here scouting other residential opportunities in the area, although Thalia has kept me on a very tight leash."

"That's to be expected, Heinrich," Carly commiserated. "Eric is being very cautious since the Great Revelation, keeping immigration into the area as low as possible. He thinks that if humans understand that vampires have been among them, but haven't caused any problems, they'll be more content."

Carly caught sight of Pam as she strolled toward the door and took the opportunity of a song change to suggest a relocation. "Would it be possible for us to move into Eric's office? It's so difficult to have a proper conversation."

With a gallant gesture, Himmler said, "Please. I will follow you wherever you lead, Carly."

As she passed through Eric's field of vision, Carly looked for her lover's affirmation. With the slightest nod, Eric acknowledged her, but, immediately afterward, she felt a sense of buoying confidence sweep through her. In return, she sent love and gratitude to Eric. Hanging back as they moved into the hallway to Eric's office, Carly looked at Eric, who offered her a faint, but supportive, smile.

When the door closed, Himmler said, "Ah, yes, this is much, much quieter. I suppose Eric has it well insulated so that his activities are concealed from the vampires outside." Himmler's lascivious tone angered her, but she tried to keep her emotions contained.

"Eric's sheriff, so he has to deal with many confidential matters." Carly smiled sweetly and gestured toward the sofa.

Himmler patted the seat next to her. "So what shall we discuss?"

"I have so many questions, Heinrich, but could we start at the beginning?"

With a laugh, Himmler said, "There are always many beginnings, Carly. Which do you wish to discuss?"

"I'm fascinated by Wewelsburg castle, especially the area around it." Hoping that discussion of his beloved castle might lead in productive directions, Carly added, "I'm fascinated that you chose the castle rather than a university."

"Pah," Himmler scoffed. "The universities were too infested with Jews. No matter how much we purged, the walls themselves still felt their legacy. I needed a place suffused with the Germanic spirit. Nowhere better represented that spirit than Wewelsburg."

Following up, Carly asked, "Why?"

"Foremost," Himmler began, "the land called to me." With a transcendent look in his eyes, Himmler said, "The stones of Externsteine themselves resonated with the spirit of our people. Our most ancient spiritual leaders marked the stones themselves, so that even if we forgot who we were the stones would."

Recalling pictures of the Externsteine from textbooks, Carly thought of the chapel and the reliefs from the 12th century. As Carly understood the site, it had become fully Christianized by the medieval period. Anything "characteristically Germanic" about it had been absorbed into the highly synchretic medieval church.

"Have you been back there since you were turned?" Carly asked tentatively.

"No," Himmler shook his head. "Although I was turned there, I have been in the United States since my maker returned to his home."

"Oh," Carly said without asking any further questions, since she'd learned from Eric that it was considered inappropriate to ask about a vampire's maker.

"Although my maker liked Germany, he had obligations here." Himmler smiled broadly.

Carly nodded, apparently sympathetic. "I know you vampires take your obligations very seriously." Uncomfortable with the lull in the conversation, Carly returned to the topic at hand. "Have you been able to continue your studies since you were turned. I've read that you had many interests in history, archeology, and religion during your human life."

"Ah, yes," Himmler paused before answering. "My turning has changed many things for me, but I have had to recognize, most importantly, that my ideas about race—while clearly relevant when living among humans—were naïve."

"How so?"

Himmler moved an errant hair from Carly's face, which made Carly's skin crawl, before saying, "While there is clearly a hierarchy among humans that is too often overthrown, vampires are the true masters."

"Indeed," Carly agreed.

"Human history pales in importance once we recognize this truth, Carly," Himmler touched her hand softly. "Humans are only important in as much as they serve vampires."

Himmler's fangs descended before he said, "And I'm grateful that such a delightful creature serves so willingly."

"Heinrich," Carly said quickly, fixing him in her thrall, "put up your fangs."

Without hesitation, his fangs rose back into his jaw. "That's better, Heinrich. You are going to sit here quietly until I return. If anyone speaks to you, remain quiet. Do not speak again until I speak to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he answered compliantly.

Carly stood, waiting to break her eye contact until the last moment possible, and ran out to the bar to retrieve a TruBlood, which she didn't even have heated.

As Carly ran back to the office, Pam intercepted her. "Everything okay?"

"Fine, but I've got him still right now. I've never done this before, so I don't want to let him stew."

Carly closed the office door quietly behind her and returned to Himmler's field of vision. Without hesitating, Carly strengthened her grasp on Himmler as she opened the TruBlood. "Heinrich, you're going to drink this with as much satisfaction as you would have if you drank from me."

As instructed, Himmler reached for the bottle and sucked it down with relish, periodically moaning and fluttering his eyes. When he was done, he licked his lips.

"Heinrich, give me the bottle. You will only remember feeding from me. You will remain here silently for another moment, until I release you." Carly rose from the sofa and disposed of the bottle in Eric's trash can. Returning to the sofa, Carly regained her dominance over Himmler. "Whenever you look at me, you will see your fang marks on my neck. Now, we will return to our conversation, and you will ask for no more access to my body. Now, Heinrich," Carly directed with the most force she could, "you will tell me everything there is to know about your maker and what you have done at his behest."

Moving out of Himmler's field of vision, Carly made herself comfortable and then released him from her hold.

"Thank you, Carly, you were delicious," Himmler complimented.

Nodding, Carly replied, "That's why Eric keeps me."

"Eric seems a remarkable vampire. I don't understand why he isn't part of my maker's court."

"Queen Sophie-Ann sought his services many years ago, so perhaps that is part of the issue." Carly smiled blandly, anticipating Himmler's continued disclosures.

Himmler shook his head. "My maker was already in the area at the end of the civil war. He's canny, old, and wise. A born leader. Even in my life, I admired him."

Since he had volunteered the information, Carly knew she could safely follow up. "You knew him when he was alive?"

"Oh yes," Himmler replied proudly. "One of his minions had an affair with an officer. When the child was born, he came to retrieve her and it. I happened to be visiting the Lebensborn home and confronted him."

"Why did he want the infant?"

He leaned toward her and whispered, "Because it was a werewolf, as was its mother. She was a beautiful thing. Tall, blond, strong. He explained that her ancestors came from Sweden, and that she could transform herself into a creature. In the future, the child would as well. The first child of any union the bitch had would yield a wolf."

"So she could have another werewolf with another man?" Despite knowing they existed, Carly knew very little about werewolves.

"Yes," Himmler nodded eagerly, "so he let me keep her and another and breed them with promising officers."

Carly asked, "What about the rest of the wolves?"

"A few of them assisted by finest officers, those whom I kept closes to me," Himmler elaborated with a conspiratorial tone. "My knights swore to serve him after the war, as did I. Of course," he shrugged, "we failed to anticipate the Reich's loss."

"So what happened to your knights?"

"They perished, but my maker saw fit to offer me life when I was captured."

"Pam says that makers are heroes." Carly smiled and repeated Pam's favorite praise, although Carly suspected that Pam really meant "my maker is a hero."

Himmler agreed. "Yes, truly. Someday I aspire to be like Russell."

Finally, Himmler had used the name, now Carly just needed to get the Nazi to disclose something meaningful about the fairies. "What happened to the wolves who were born in the Lebensborn homes? Did they survive the war?"

"Yes, although it took time for them to come to Mississippi."

"Oh, so your maker lives permanently in Mississippi?" Carly felt her innocent facade falter.

Proudly, Himmler announced, "I was made by Russell Edgington, King of Mississippi."

"Wow," Carly said appreciatively, "isn't he thousands of years old?"

Himmler nodded and replied, "I don't know if he even knows how ancient he is. He has taught me all I could ever hope to know about history. You should see his treasury of artifacts!"

"I can only imagine what he could acquire over all that time," Carly said sincerely. "I would be very interested in his Germanic artifacts, particularly those from Scandinavia." Carly hoped to return Eric's crown to him, even if he was no longer a king.

"Yes, perhaps you might visit." Himmler's face went blank, and he said, "Your king has greatly offended my maker, so perhaps you might serve as a peace offering between the kingdoms."

"Perhaps," Carly inwardly shivered and called desperately for Eric, "although I am Eric's body and soul."

"There is no such thing as the soul, dear child," Himmler laughed.

Eric strolled into his office without knocking and asked, "Are you entertained, Mr. Welkin?"

"Oh yes and fed as well," Himmler boasted. "And she was delicious. Thank you."

Carly could feel the surge of rage in Eric, even though his face betrayed no change.

_I glamoured him, Eric. He drank TruBlood._

The rage subsided, but Eric sat gracefully behind Carly and drew her to him by her neck. "She is, isn't she. I hope you report my hospitality, if you return to Mississippi."

"I was just suggesting that your king might allow me to return with her."

Eric remained unchanging, despite another surge of rage that made Carly tremble. "No, I fear not. Carly is mine and will remain so in perpetuity."

"Too bad," Himmler sighed. "Although she is not as delicious as my recent charges." The vampire's affect changed dramatically, and he seemed to deflate before their eyes. "Unfortunately, I failed my maker since I could not contain my blood-lust."

Eric and Carly remained silent, hoping that the loquacious vampire would continue to tell his story without further provocation. He did not disappoint them

"Russell put me in charge of a new Lebensborn, although this time we are not breeding warriors, but delicacies." Himmler shook his head dejectedly before adding, "When one struck me and cut herself, I could not resist. Before I realized, I had consumed them all."

"Tragic."

Himmler looked at Eric pleadingly and said, "It was, sheriff. I'd acquired them in New Orleans, but they were the only likely candidates in their families. I only took those who looked as if they would breed most effectively. Russell directed me back here to obtain two others, although I have not been able to rendezvous with the procurer. Thalia was very clear that I was not to leave the city without your permission."

Eric agreed, "Of course not. You can only move through my area with my leave."

"Perhaps, since you are familiar with the area, you have encountered others of their kind?"

"Mr. Welkin," Eric addressed him formally, "I'm afraid you have not been very specific. What is their kind?"

"Part fairies." Himmler looked around confused. "Yes, my maker sent me to your area to secure three part fairies from a procurer. Others have been promised, but none have materialized."

"Really?" Carly encouraged obliquely.

Himmler nodded actively and explained, "Yes, a vampire in Ohio claims to have a family with three children, but they are not yet of child-bearing age, so he is reluctant to send them to Russell, who has a taste for children, particularly boys."

Carly's stomach pitched and turned with the recollection of her vision of Russell's rape of a young boy. She and Eric remained silent again, waiting for Himmler to continue.

"Russell still hopes to gain the throne in your state, because something within the palace summons fairies. If he could capture full fairies, he would have no need to breed hybrids into more potent doses."

"Doses?" Eric repeated.

Himmler's excitement didn't seem to end as he explained, "Russell wishes to have immunity to the sun, finally overthrow the authority, and remake the world as it should be rather than what it has become. He hopes I can help him clear the land, since I have done it once before."

"Indeed," Eric released Carly and asked, "What is your position on this plan?"

Spitting on the floor, Himmler growled, "That is what I think of the authority. All of them deserve the final death, and I will do all I can to help Russell to rule the world as he should. Once he and his soldiers acquire immunity to the sun, we will kill all the ancients and then raze every human institution. We will destroy them." Just as quickly as he'd become feral, Himmler smiled. "That is my position, sheriff, but I must wait in exile until I return with Russell's bounty."

Eric stood. "Heinrich, if I may be so intimate, since my beloved appears to be on those terms with you, would you consider moving downstairs with me. I don't believe you have seen the club as a whole."

Carly hopped up, suddenly realizing that Eric intended to show Himmler his dungeon. She wondered whether Eric intended to torture him, or detain him, or if his objectives were less dire.

Sensing her anxiety, Eric inquired, "Are you all right, my dear?"

"Yes," she thought toward him, _I want to dampen the link between Himmler and Russell, but I don't know how to do it_.

"Well, accompany me as I give Heinrich the tour." Eric directed his bonded and guest out of his office.

As they started the short walk toward the basement stairs, Carly ran through everything she'd done to vampires. She'd glamoured them, she'd read their minds, but she hadn't interfered with their bonds with their makers. Even with Esther and Christophe, she hadn't done anything to dampen their connection to Edgar, at least not intentionally. But Carly feared that if Russell felt any distress from Himmler, he might send out a search party, and she didn't ever want to encounter the king's wolves. Clearly, if Eric came to a decision to detain the Nazi, he didn't care if he risked Russell's anger.

Eric led the way down the stairs toward the space she'd only seen a few times. A wheel was suspended horizontally from the ceiling, which Carly presumed was intended for chaining detainees. There were coffins in the back, at least one of which she knew was lined with silver. A massive case concealed knives, forceps and other tools she knew should give her nightmares. The fact that they didn't troubled her almost as much.

"Sheriff, it's quite gloomy down here," Himmler said cheerfully. "I don't find it as appealing as the upstairs."

"That's too bad, Herr Himmler," Eric replied mildly and without affect, as he blocked Himmler's egress. "Would you please sit for a few moments?" Gesturing toward a folding chair against the wall, Eric said, "Sit, Heinrich, so that Carly can tell you a story."

"A story?" Carly asked, unsure of Eric's goal.

"Yes, my love, please tell Herr Himmler about Nakamura, and our friend of last evening, perhaps even Christophe, and the others." Eric stared at Carly, who could only see half of his face.

Himmler crossed his legs and said, "I adore stories, and I believe I know of a Nakamura, if you mean the vampire in New Orleans."

Believing she understood, Carly walked to stand before Himmler, who looked at her with the excitement of an expectant child. "Heinrich, do you hear me?" Sweeping him up into the firm embrace of her will, Carly tugged at his mind until she felt it submit to her. "Heinrich, you will remain silent and still until I direct you to do otherwise, do you understand?"

"Ja," Himmler replied in German.

Carly tightened her grip on Himmler's mind until she was confident she could walk away. "What do you want to do with him, Eric?

Eric paced back and forth and rejected any effort to conceal his rage any longer, so Carly felt it overpower her from within. Eric spat out, "The true death is too good for him. Torture couldn't last long enough. Even Godric, at his wildest and cruelest, never harmed as many people in a thousand years as this insect did while he lived a human."

She wouldn't admit it to Eric, but she'd done the math. If Eric had killed an average of three people a week, for a thousand years, he would have killed over 156,000 people. She knew, however, that Eric rarely killed when he fed, once he learned how to control himself, even though Godric still did. Godric said, and she believed, that Eric had civilized him. In anthropological terms, Eric and Godric had made less of an impact on the world than the common cold.

Himmler, on the other hand, with his crew of executioners, had laid waste entire communities. If her vampires were a cold, Himmler was smallpox—among the Aztecs. And he was unrepentant and now intended to transform the whole of the human race into a herd of cattle for his maker.

"Eric," Carly said quietly, "what are we going to do with him?"

Finally composing himself, Eric said, "I don't know. Whatever we do will have grave consequences for Godric and for us, perhaps even for vampires." Eric slipped his hands into his pockets and slouched. "We need counsel from wiser minds, Carly. Can we hold him like this?"

Carly knelt down before Himmler and looked intently into his eyes as she asked, "Is it possible for vampires to sleep at night? Of just to slip into unconsciousness for a while?"

"Sometimes," Eric shrugged, "but rarely. Sometimes if they've fed too deeply, they will sleep longer. But it's rare."

"It's worth a try," Carly said, as she regained her contact with Himmler. "Heinrich, you're going to rest now, and you will continue to sleep until I touch your face. When I touch your face, you will awake, but you'll still be listening for me and waiting for me to tell you what to do. Do you understand?"

"Ja," Himmler replied blankly, before his eyes closed and he fell over onto the floor.

"Remind me not to piss you off, Carly."

Carly moved to Eric and kissed him. "Never. You could never piss me off."

"Give me time."

Eric hoisted Himmler over his shoulder and took him toward the coffins in the back. "Please get that blanket, Carly."

Grabbing a heavy wool blanket from the corner, Carly waited for further direction.

"Open the silver lined coffin. If we line it, he won't get any surface burns, but he won't be able to get out of it without our assistance."

Once Eric and Carly had secured Himmler within the coffin, they simply stared at it until Carly began laughing. "Yes, mom, I had a lovely day. My vampire boyfriend and I locked the notorious SS commandant Heinrich Himmler in a spare coffin in the basement. Nothing big, just a regular day at Fangtasia."

Eric wrapped himself around her and said, "Boyfriend?"

Carly giggled and said, "Well, you're a big, big boy, Eric Northman." Before he could suggest it, Carly said, "And no, we're not fooling around in your creepy dungeon basement, Eric Northman."

Without missing a beat, Eric said, "So what do you suggest?"

"Since I only have two nights to enjoy it, I would like to spend a little time in my own bed, have a lovely shower in my own bathroom, and cook myself a nice bowl of oatmeal tomorrow morning."

Eric turned her quickly, kissed her on the forehead, and said, "Then let us go upstairs and update Thalia as to the state of her charge and find out whether I have any other business to attend to."

"Oh," Carly remembered, "about Thalia." Carly pulled the crystal out of her pocket and said, "Thalia gave me this earlier and said, 'We should know our allies,' or something like that."

The crystal turned around in his hand and caught echoes of the faint light of the basement. "She is full of surprises, isn't she?"

"So she's an initiate as well, right?"

"It would seem. Let us go see if she's returned from her hunting."

When they returned to the floor, Eric found Pam waiting impatiently at the top of the steps. "I'm glad you decided to come back to us, Eric."

"Pam," Eric drawled, "Am I required?"

"Not by me," Pam replied in a huff, "goodness knows I've moved on to softer pastures. Your subjects require your intervention in a matter of 'grave importance.'" Pam walked slowly toward Eric's office, where these 'subjects' waited."

"Can I stay out here?"

Eric leaned over to meet Carly's eyes and said, "Of course, lover, but if I need you, listen to my call."

Carly whispered, "of course," and returned to the bar to look for Thalia. When she didn't find the ancient vampire, Carly got a Diet Coke from the bar and sat down. As Carly scanned the room, she noticed a young woman who barely seemed of age, whose face was hidden behind a curtain of energy that pulsed and surged. Once focused on her features, Carly could make out the overwhelming sorrow that lingered behind her eyes. The girl, whose sallow features and limp hair bespoke poor nutrition and little care for her own well-being, had trained her gaze on one of the newer vampires in the area—Liam, whose unnerving head tattoos seemed as if they were going to burst off his head and bite. After Godric's introduction, Liam behaved himself slightly better than he had previously, but Carly thought he'd eventually become interested in the girl, weakened by the weight of death and grief.

When she finished her soda, Carly strolled over to the girl. Carly took little peeks at her mind as she moved across the room, unwilling to devote all her attention to the young woman lest Eric need her right away. What Carly saw was too horrible to focus on, nonetheless.

Bethany, Carly learned, was the only survivor of an unspeakable crime. Her father had attempted to kill his entire family—wife and four children. Bethany, the oldest, lay still after the first gun-shot in the chest, which missed her heart and aorta miraculously, so he didn't shoot her again. After all the others were dead, she crawled out of bed and made it to a phone. Now, three years later, survivors guilt was too much for her, but she didn't want to kill herself violently. Instead, without awareness that she was suicidal, she sought out dangerous situations—unprotected sex, major drugs, and drunk driving, but she survived everything.

"So, hey," Carly addressed her, "I haven't seen you here before. What do you think?"

Bethany looked Carly over suspiciously before she answered, "It's cool. I haven't talked to any vamps yet, unless you're one."

Carly thought it over for a moment—could she pass for a vampire in her explorer's outfit? And how could she get hold of Bethany? With only a moment's hesitation, Carly grabbed the young girl's hand and said, through gritted teeth, since the energy had begun to pulse into her body, "What do you think?"

The girl didn't resist, or push Carly away, but seemed to relax in her grasp, as visions of the family's death began to run through Carly's mind.

_Ben, what are you doin'? Honey, please...please...don't, don't, I'm beggin' you, just take me. Leave the kids alone...please...dear lord, Our father, who art in heaven...lead us not...lead us not...please...what have we done...what have we done...?They don't deserve this, Ben...you're angry with me...no, not the baby..._

Carly felt Bethany go limp as the she siphoned off the weight of death off her shoulders, so she tightened her grasp on Bethany's hand to ensure that the girl didn't fall over.

"What are you?" Bethany sighed as she sank to the floor.

Once all the energy that had restrained Bethany from living her own life was gone, Carly breathed deeply and said, "I'm just here to help, Bethany." With that, Carly helped Bethany to rise and stagger toward the bar. "I'll be back in a second, but you don't have to wait for me, Bethany."

"I never told you my name," the young woman said, wrinkling up her nose in a gesture of confusion and distress.

Carly smiled, exerted her will on the girl, and said, "You just forgot, Bethany."

"Oh, yeah...I forgot." Bethany smiled placidly and then stared at Longshadow until he asked her what she wanted from the bar.

Digesting, reconstituting, reconfiguring the energy within her, Carly felt her body itch to release life back into the world, but when she looked around the club for a way to discharge it, she find any place or person who would benefit. Additionally, she felt a warmth rising from deep within her, and she feared she might begin to glow. A glowing woman dressed like Lara Croft, she feared, might draw unreasonable attention in a vampire bar.

As quickly as she could, she went outside into the front parking lot. The club, and its surrounding concrete, provided few opportunities to send life back into the universe. Remembering a stand of kudzu vine that wound its way through the chain link fence beside the club, Carly squeezed between the fence and the wall to reach it.

The energy within Carly was so potent, she felt as if it was about to emanate from every pore. As she reached toward the vine, preparing to release the energy into the world, she heard the footfalls of unfamiliar boots. Their sound gave her pause, and she listened more closely with both her ears and her mind.

Apart from the thump of heavy boots on blacktop, Carly heard no audible sounds, but a great deal from the minds of the two men who approached her—one from the front of the club from whence she'd come and one from the back of the club. In seconds, they would be upon her.

_She isn't the one who smelled so damn good, but those legs are their own reward...Even if she isn't one of these breeders he wants, don't see why he couldn't bleed her...after we have a little fun with the bitch..._

Carly recognized the werewolves immediately, but she refused to let her fear ratchet up. Even if they grabbed her, she could get away. A year before, Carly would have begun screaming as soon as she caught sight of their rapacious thoughts. But instead, she waited for them to make a move against her.

_If she's out here, the vamp must be inside. All them left Bon Temps together...Russell doesn't want her, maybe the vamp inside will do a trade for the breeders._

The three of them seemed at an impasse, because the wolves weren't moving any closer to her. They lingered just out of sight, concealed in shadow. _I'll have to make the move_...Carly decided to move toward the back of the club, where she'd be closer to Eric's office if she needed him.

As Carly crab-walked along the fence toward the back of the building, her body still full of energy, her fingers and hands began to warm and itch, and she heard a low hum, like the sound one hears when turning on an old stereo receiver before tuning to a radio station or putting a needle on a record. The closer she got to the rear entrance of the bar, the hotter her hands became, and the further up her arms the heat climbed. By the time she reached the corner, where she knew she'd turn and see the werewolf—who by now was nearly panting with excitement—Carly felt the heat compress her heart, desperate to be released.

"Well, well, well," the werewolf who staked out the rear of the club said as she emerged from beside the fence, "you smell nice, don't you sweet thing. I think my master would like you just fine."

As he stalked toward her, Carly heard the sound of the other werewolf as he jumped along the top of the chain link fence.

Inching along the fence in the back parking lot, Carly said, "Your master can just go to hell."

"I don't think she's really as sweet as she smells, Cooter," the other werewolf said while he blocked her escape back toward the front of the club.

"Maybe not, Jedd, but the king won't give a damn once he's got her glamoured."

Carly felt the heat consume her chest and rise up into her neck, as she began to feel energy arcing between her fingers. Loudly, in her deepest register, Carly growled, "Get the hell away from me, dog."

In the floodlights that illuminated the cars, Carly saw Cooter nod toward Jedd, his back-up man. "You're not very polite, fangbanger. We'll have to teach you some manners on the way back to Jackson."

Feeling Jedd approach her, Carly whipped around to face him and discharged all the energy that burned in her throat and her belly and that sparked across her fingers in one lightening strike that slammed the wolf against the back of the club.

Cooter howled as he began to tear off his clothes and transform into a wolf.

Returning around to face the remaining wolf in the midst of his metamorphosis, Carly felt unspeakable, burning rage, and realized that Eric's emotions were flooding her. As Cooter, in wolf form, lunged toward her, Carly saw Eric zoom in front of her. Eric prepared to grasp the wolf as it lunged at Carly, but when she touched her vampire, a ball of blue fire enveloped the wolf and held him suspended ten feet off the ground.

"That will work, I believe," Eric editorialized.

Still reeling from the discharge of energy that stopped her first attacker, Carly hung onto Eric's arm, clinging to him to stay upright and conscious. She knew she had no control over the fire, so she contemplated their situation silently as Eric manipulated the luminous weapon and its captive.

Eric raised the ball of fire fifty feet in the air, and then released the werewolf from its hold. When the wolf hit the ground, it whimpered, and turned back into the human "Cooter."

With Cooter immobilized, Eric turned his attention to Carly. "Are you injured?"

She shook her head in denial and took Eric's arm and directed him toward Jedd—immobile and apparently broken. "Please, help me see if he's alive."

When they got to the body, Cary could feel immediately that Jedd had died of his injuries. A faint shimmer of energy rose from the body, and Carly readily absorbed it.

"My lord, Carly," Eric recoiled from her. "Can you smell that?"

"What?"

Eric held her steadily, but at arms length. "Turpentine. You smell awful—turpentine-just like Sweden, when I saved you."

All Carly knew of that episode—when she'd stabbed herself in the neck with a pencil as she relived Eric's mother's death after handling her husband's skull—came from Eric's description. Eric had poured his blood into her mouth and then fled because he couldn't bear the smell. Somehow, she must have accessed the energy from the dead werewolf—the wolf that Eric's mother had killed with her own knife—when she entered the dream.

"Let me get rid of it," Carly said, before sitting on the pavement. "You can check Cooter," she pointed toward the other werewolf, "so you don't have to be close."

The energy from the dead werewolf clearly differed from human energy or fairy energy, but if someone asked Carly to describe the terms, the only thing she'd be able to say was that it seemed "gamey" or "greasy." It churned through her system, making her stomach uncomfortable, raising the bile to her throat. After a moment, however, she felt a wave of uncontrollable lust—not only for sex but for violence—a need to stalk and hunt.

From the corner of her eye, a possum attracted her hunter's instinct, suddenly sharpened by the werewolf's death. Carly bounded across the parking lot and caught it by the back of its neck. With a tight hold on the possum, Carly exhaled the energy into the creature's face and it squealed. She released it back into the shadows, releasing the frantic blood-lust that consumed her seconds before with it.

"He's dead. Broken neck," Eric commented from beside the naked wolf. "Come inside, Carly, while I make a couple of calls to our cleaners."

"No," Carly shook her head. "No, let's call the police."

Eric laughed sharply—dismissively. "So you can tell them we killed them without laying a hand on either of them? What did you do to that other one, anyway?"

Looking down at her hands, now still and cool, Carly acknowledged his logic. "You're right. I can't exactly say I fairy-zapped him into a wall."

"Is that what happened?" Eric dragged Cooter's corpse toward Jedd's, retrieving the wolf's clothes as they passed. "I knew where you were, and you felt nervous, but then there was this overpowering light, like you'd been sucked into the sun."

"Yeah," Carly mumbled in agreement, "that was sort of how it felt."

Eric picked her up in his arms and carried her back into the club. Within his office, two vampires glowered at each other and at Eric as he returned.

"Glad you've returned, Sheriff," one commented snarkily.

"Silence, Jones," Eric replied sternly. "Move, my human needs the sofa."

"I'm not moving for a human," Jones answered, his arms crossed in defiance.

Eric smirked, "Then you've made this very easy for me. Roskowicz," Eric addressed the other vampire in the room, a stocky, square-headed man who appeared to be about fifty. "The human is yours and Jones will never contact him again. You have my blessing to turn him."

"Thank you, Sheriff." Roskowicz bowed and left the office.

Jones, still immobile, as Eric deposited Carly in his chair, growled. "I'm going to protest this to the king, Northman."

Carly, too dizzy with exertion to focus, didn't know how Eric got in front of Jones, but without warning, he had the young-looking, slick-haired vampire by the throat with his left hand, and was pulling intestines out of the vampire's belly with his right.

Eric pulled a length of intestine from the other vampire's belly and stuffed it into Jones's mouth. "And this is what Godric will tell you what to do with your defiant, impatient, impolite bull-shit." Eric tossed the disemboweled vampire to the floor. "Out the back door, cretin. You had no case anyway. Do not defy me or insult Carly ever again. Next time, it will be your heart that winds up in your mouth—right before they both dissolve."

Jones crawled out of the office, and Carly heard the familiar slam of the heavy employee exit. The last thing she saw, before she passed out, was Eric ripping his bloodied shirt from his body.

_Once upon a time, in the cold, wintry countryside, _a paternal voice narrated to Carly, who saw a cage-like structure around her and beautiful shapes suspended above her, _an old man, who had walked this world from one end to the other, became very, very sad..._

Carly felt her father's hand grasping her own, and she felt the two of them swinging back and forth on a porch swing. When she looked up, the chains that suspended the swing rose to infinity. Before them, Carly saw a tidy set of wooden structures, aligned on clear axes, with railroad tracks going past them. The gray sky hovered over the buildings, but Carly saw nothing particularly unusual, until a smoke stack began belching acrid smoke into the air.

_...and the old man's belly was so full, he couldn't eat any more, no matter how much he tried. And he invited his friends and relatives to the cold winter meal, but they became just as sick, so sick, and so sad..._

A set of railroad cars ground to a halt, and Carly saw the sign above the gate into the compound. _Arbeit macht frei._.. Soldiers with guns drawn stalked out of the first buildings, blowing on their hands to warm them. When they opened the door, out poured women, children, and old, old men...

_They cried as they ate, because their food grieved them. It came too much, too often, too early. Their stomachs so full, they grew so sick, and nothing could soothe them. Nothing could make it better. Nothing could help them pass the food, because the world refused to take what they offered. Everything they offered returned to them, and sickened them. Finally, the old man's friends and relatives abandoned the world and returned to their distant home...their home across the waters...their home through the falls...But he stayed, desperate to finish the meal, to feed the land...to feed the land...to feed the world...but he was so sick, so sickened...So sickened he could never, ever eat again..._

Carly awoke with a start from her dream. Her father had witnessed the horror—they all had. It had been so awful the valkyries—the beings who maintained the balance between the energies of life and death- had been so sickened by the Holocaust that they retreated from this world. They abandoned it to its horror and allowed the world to sicken and die beneath the weight of death. Her father fled the land he'd walked for centuries—millenia—and lived as a human, desperate to create beauty, to father life, because of what he'd seen. Because of what the monster in Eric's dungeon had helped to orchestrate.

Alone in Eric's office, Carly rose, washed her face in Eric's attached bathroom, and then went in search of her lover, his progeny, and Thalia.

She didn't search long. They all sat, drinking blood from the unmarked mason's jars, at a table near the bar.

"Feeling better sleepy-head?" Pam asked, even before Eric's eyes had focused on her.

Carly struggled to smile and responded, "Yeah, but bad dreams."

"More about the wolves?" Eric stood and approached her as he spoke.

With a shake of her head, Carly responded. "No, I dreamed about my dad. He's been showing me things. I didn't realize it, but he witnessed what the Nazis did. They killed so many people they couldn't take in all the death."

Thalia replied as Eric embraced Carly gently. "Not just them." Thalia placed her hands flat on the table. "More death in the twentieth century than ever—even with plague. First War, second war, Stalin, Mao, Cambodia. Most I ever saw in one hundred years over millenia of existence. The air stinks of death. Plague is at least natural—plague does not hate. Just kills."

Pam scoffed suddenly. "I still don't get it, Thalia. What the hell's up with the foreigner talk? Can you just not bother to speak English well?"

Thalia glared at Pam and said, "Few are worth talking to. Languages change too quickly for me to chase."

"Well, the first one's right, at least," Pam agreed.

Looking up at Eric, Carly inquired, "Are the wolves gone?"

"Yes, all cleaned up." Eric pointed toward the bar, where he'd laid out the contents of the wolves' pockets. "Did you want to see their wallets?"

"Is there anything interesting?" Carly really didn't care about what werewolves carried with them, especially since she wondered why werewolves would carry wallets, if they just abandoned their clothes whenever they changed into wolves.

Eric shrugged. "Not particularly, although there are some codes written on the backs of things—poor attempts to conceal PIN codes or security codes in phone numbers. There might be gate codes for Russell's compound that could be useful intelligence to hold onto."

"Then I don't really care." Carly squeezed Eric tight and pressed her cheek into his chest. "I'm more worried about the monster in the basement. What the hell are we going to do with him?"

"We should seek counsel," Thalia said with gravitas. "The elders of the mystery should decide." Turning to Pam, Thalia said, "You are not initiated, but you are safe to hear most things. This, no. You need to leave."

"Kicked out of my own bar?" Pam's pose suggested she was horribly aggrieved. "Whatever will I do? Oh, I know, go work on my list for Carly."

"What?" Carly's head whipped toward Pam with the mention of her name.

Smiling like a cat, Pam answered, "You're going to pick up some things for me while you're in New York."

"Some things?" Eric raised an eybrow.

As Pam pushed herself up from the table, "Since I can't go to New York City and indulge my passions for art and fashion, you'll have to placate me by bringing home a few souvenirs."

"A few?" Eric would not retreat.

"The list is only four pages long now." Pam winked at Carly and then added, "typed, single-spaced, Times New Roman, ten point font."

Pam strolled off as Eric shook his head in mock distress at his progeny's materialistic ways.

"It will be ready before you leave," Pam assured, "don't worry. I wouldn't want you to be bored, Carly. And there's a two page list of things you should get for yourself."

Pam's chutzpah, and her willingness to spend her maker's money, brightened Carly's night, which couldn't get any grimmer if she tried. The reality that she'd killed still hadn't sunk in entirely, but the weight of the realization hovered over her conscience, waiting for a moment of fragility to crash down on her.

Once the back door closed behind her, Thalia rose, closed her eyes, and then clapped her hands. Eric buckled against an already woozy Carly as the two felt the air stiffen within the bar. Out of thin air, the likenesses of the Ancient Pythonness, Friagabi, Niall, and a robed figure on whom Carly struggled to focus her eyes, appeared before them. They seemed present to the three in the bar, but somehow less than solid. Carly strained against Eric's tightening grip to look around her, where she saw the same crystalline structure assembled around them.

The Pythia spoke first. "You've summoned the elders, Thalia, and those of us who could have assembled to answer you."

Without prompting, all three—Thalia, Eric, and Carly—sank to their knees before the ancient beings, and soon after, Thalia replied, "And we are most humbled by your presence."

The robed figure, whose outline undulated as it spoke, answered in a booming, mellifluous but polyphonic voice: "Rise and explain yourself, valkyrie. Your question summoned us."

Eric rose first and extended his hand to Carly for reassurance.

Once she rose to her full height, she addressed the four elders as calmly as she could. "Russell Edgington..."

Carly paused in fear when she heard the Pythia growl and a horrifying hiss rise from the robed being, whose shape shifted again as it whistled and spit in anger.

Niall intervened so that Carly would continue speaking. "Pardon their theatrics, Carly, continue."

Breathing deeply to regain her composure, Carly began again. "Russell Edgington turned Heinrich Himmler and the nazi has been searching for fairies to breed. He's already killed a group of hybrids. Edgington's werewolves were here tonight searching for two that Godric shelters now."

"Himmler..." Friagabi's image faded away as she drew out the last syllable.

The Pythia sighed loudly, "Do not worry, children, she's just checking her tallies. She is very much like your American Santa Claus."

The image of Friagabi reappeared, swathed in a dark, red light. "Edgington turned one of them. One of them that drove my children away...drove them mad. We must serve justice."

"All progeny of Edgington should be exterminated, as should he," the robed mass decreed. "All from that line should be destroyed, apart from your maker, you, and your progeny."

Eric's hand nearly broke Carly's. "I'm sorry, my lord, but I don't understand what you're saying. Edgington is not Godric's maker."

"No, but Godric's maker and he were blood brothers. All that vampire created were self-indulgent, gluttonous, cruel, as have been their progeny. Godric did well to end his maker, and even better to resist the influence of that blood. Godric, only Godric, has had the strength of character to create a line apart from his maker's." The robed mass shifted again, and the cloth that obscured what Carly thought should be a head slipped to reveal nothing but darkness, a deep, unfathomable shadow.

"So Russell is Godric's uncle," Carly whispered.

"In a way, Carly," the Pythia responded. "And should be ended just as Godric's maker was."

"But what about Himmler?" Thalia returned the council to their original topic. "We stake him?"

"No," Niall answered for the elders. "He has too much to answer for and is too important for bringing Edgington to his end. The worst of his crimes were committed while he was human, so he should answer to humans for what he has done."

"I agree," the Pythia concurred, "and he should do so publicly. The Authority disgusts me, and vampires do themselves no good hiding behind lies. If Himmler were to reveal himself to humans, the Authority would have to respond. Perhaps we may insure that no more monsters will be turned."

The robed mass answered in its chorus of voices, "Himmler must face his victims, and they must judge him." As soon as the echo from his declaration subsided, he faded away.

"The hive has spoken," Friagabi said, "and we agree. The human world must bring him to justice for his crimes. My child, Carly, make it happen."

"Okay," Carly said quietly, "but I don't know how much I can control the connection he has with Edgington."

"Prepare the way for his revelation and then summon him to you." Friagabi spoke as if she were offering driving directions. "You have summoned your vampire, and you have moved yourself to him. Prepare the world to recognize Himmler, and then reveal him to them. Weigh him down with the injury he has done, and he will beg to be released from the pain. Your father and his brothers harvested the the energy they could and reshaped it into life as they could, but it drove them all mad. But those memories still circle the cauldron, waiting for justice. Give them to Himmler so he may suffer for what he has done, and he will never resist human authorities."

"Edgington will, however," Eric suggested. "Once Edgington knows Himmler has revealed himself, won't he try to free his progeny, or destroy him?"

"Perhaps," the Pythia replied, "but in the aftermath of the revelation, I doubt Edgington will be your concern. If what I have seen is true, the Authority will seek his destruction as soon as Russell's guilt is known to the world."

As Carly rubbed her temples, taking in the suggestions and the premonitions, she tried to formulate a plan. She'd planned to spend tonight in her bed, with Eric, before they left tomorrow for New York City. Perhaps she could figure out something in New York—someone had to have a way to identify Himmler. Perhaps the Holocaust Museum had records—an ID card, or fingerprints—that could be used to authenticate him. If she were a reporter, or an Army officer, she would doubt that the vampire were really who he said he was, unless she had some way to document his transformation from human war criminal to vampire.

If she could get her hands on that information, she could seek Jean-Jacques's guidance. Or she could just show up at the CNN studios with Himmler in tow and have him confess to them. Or show up at the Israeli consulate...or the FBI district office..or show up at Fort Hamilton.

And she had to do Pam's shopping. That was almost as intimidating a prospect as bringing the SS commander to justice. Perhaps even more intimidating.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

A/N I have no claim on any of the characters of True Blood and the Southern Vampire Mysteries, and my use of CNN as a network is only there because I lack the creativity to come up with my own network acronym. Sorry for the big gap since the last update! I'll be writing the next installment sooner.

Carly waited patiently in the small lounge set aside for the passengers of the newly branded Anubis Airlines at the Shreveport airport. Eric's travel coffin, and a larger crate accommodating Himmler in his silver-lined containment, waited beside her as she watched the ground crew go over the small jet just outside the plate glass window. The late afternoon sun made it difficult for her to focus on all the details of the plane, but she was fairly certain that it was the same make and model as Eric's plane. Perhaps it was the one that he shared with other vampires in the greater Texas/Arkansas/Louisiana area. Eric told her the night before that a group of them had incorporated and were now "rebranding" themselves as a high-dollar, high-security airline expressly for vampire clientele. It seemed like a good idea to Carly, but it also seemed as if it might attract unwelcome attention.

As she waited, Carly tried to keep track of the people around her, scanning them to ferret out ill intent, but most seemed to be doing their jobs as diligently as one would expect in a small, regional airport.

_Run...run...that's what we could do...we could run. But I don't want to hurt anybody. Hate hurting people. I know that makes me a bad wolf...but I hate hurting anyone. _

Indistinct, frantic thoughts crossed Carly's field of attention, but she had difficulty relocating them when they disappeared. After a few moments, she focused on one of the ground crew. She peered into his mind, hoping primarily that he wasn't planning to sabotage the plane.

_Good pressure, full oil. Nice plane...been taken good care of. Won't have any problem with the flight to New Jersey...don't know how I'm gonna get her outta the airport though. She's a pretty thing...she'll stick out. And she's stuck to those coffins._

Out loud, Carly said, "Seriously? Again!"

"Is everything all right, ma'am?" The Anubis representative, who seemed busy with a number of tasks, asked with some concern.

Carly smiled, "No, I'm sorry, I mean..." Carly took a deep breath to settle herself before she responded. "Everything is fine. I just have a little indigestion. I thought I had taken enough medicine to get rid of it."

He smiled sympathetically. "I understand. Gumbo always does that to me. Sometimes you think you've kicked it and then it shows right back up."

"Yep, that's it." Carly pointed at the airplane. "Do you know when we'll be loaded onto the plane?"

He looked at his watch. "Scheduled departure is in fifteen minutes, so I suppose the cargo folks will come in to get you in about ten."

"Thanks," Carly responded politely.

A few minutes later, as promised, two burly cargo guys—one tattooed and in his twenties and wearing a tag that identified him as Chris, and the other about forty-five or fifty, named Bobby-came into the lounge to transport the coffins.

"Do you have any more luggage, ma'am?" the younger of the two asked.

Carly shook her head. "No, just my carry-on."

Bobby added quickly, "You can follow us, ma'am, and board the plane as well. Will both of them wake up during the flight?"

"No, just the one in the travel coffin," Carly responded. "The other one has been ill, so he's sleeping long after sunset these days." The lie poured out of her mouth without hesitation. In most ways, Himmler had been "ill" for almost a century.

Commiserating, as if they were discussing old relatives, Bobby said, "That's too bad. I hope he gets better soon."

"Thanks," Carly smiled, looking around as they passed through the lounge doors for her would-be kidnapper.

The two loaded Himmler into the cargo-hold in the belly of the plane, and then carried Eric's coffin into the main compartment. As Carly mounted the stairs, she felt the werewolf's mind approach and heard clearly that he didn't like to carry a gun and regretted bringing a revolver. When he was about three feet away, Carly turned quickly, swinging her carry-on bag around as if it were an Olympic hammer. The impact knocked the gun from the werewolf's hand and threw him off balance. Carly started screaming, "Help! Help! I'm being attacked!"

Scrambling to recover the pistol that had flown from his hands, the werewolf slipped and fell. As he did, Chris bounded under the plane and tackled him. The two started to wrestle on the ground, and Carly could feel the werewolf begin to change his shape. Carly jumped back down to the tarmac and screamed, "Stop! Just stop it. You're not going to shift, or I'll really make you regret it."

Somehow, Carly grabbed hold of the werewolf's head as the two men struggled against each other, and she felt a wave of violent energy pour into her, along with the wolf's memories of his lost father and his sense of impotence when dealing with his sister. "Just stop it, James," she used the werewolf's name in the hope that would quiet him, and it did. He stopped fighting and allowed Chris to pin him to the tarmac.

Bristling with energy from the werewolf, Carly demanded, "Who sent you?"

"I didn't want to hurt you, ma'am, really. I wouldn't hurt you," James started to blubber.

"I don't care," Carly chastised, "just tell me who sent you!"

"Guys out of Jackson. They got my sister and her baby boy," James's tears increased, "and they said if I didn't bring you to 'em they'd skin both of 'em alive."

Bobby came around the plane with his cellphone and said, "The police will be here in five minutes, they said."

Looking within James, Carly could see how deeply he cared for his sister and her son, his only living family. He lacked a pack, and his sister had bounced around from man to man and wound up landing on an unsavory wolf in the Jackson pack, who wasn't even interested in the boy. A friend of James, who died right after she got pregnant, was the little boy's father.

"Tell them it's a misunderstanding, Bobby," Carly said above the engine noise. "I think I can help him out."

Bobby cocked his head and said into the phone, "Can you wait a minute?" Then, returning his attention to Carly, "Are you sure, ma'am, he had a gun?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. But you guys can get rid of the gun. Put him on the plane and restrain him for me," Carly directed.

As she climbed up the steps behind Chris and James, she heard Bobby inform the police that there'd been a "misunderstanding," and that there wasn't really a problem after all.

Before Chris seated the werewolf, Carly asked, "James, where's your wallet?"

"Back pocket."

Carly grabbed it and started looking for pictures. The werewolf had pictures of his father and mother, whom Carly knew were both dead, as well as of his dead friend Noah, his sister, and the little boy, just a toddler.

Once the werewolf was duct-taped into his seat, Chris said, "Good luck, ma'am."

"Thanks." Carly smiled to the cargo loader and replied, "I'll probably need it. At least for when my vampire wakes up. He's not going to be happy with me."

The flight attendant popped out of the kitchenette and squeaked when she saw the restrained werewolf in the plane. "Oh dear!"

Carly started to laugh and said, "It's all right. Mr. Northman gave me a last minute directive to bring James along. Could you give me a second though, before you close the door?"

"Umm," the flight attendant paused and then finally looked at Carly, "sure. I guess."

Remembering that consuming James's death energy would probably make her smell horrible to Eric's sensitive nose, Carly struggled to process it and discard it. Since she couldn't deposit it into an animal, Carly focused all her concentration toward a brush field between the runways. Carly stared into the distance towards the field and willed the energy across the gap and into the field mice she sensed scurrying around beneath the visible brush. As she exhaled, she felt stronger, but even less human than she'd felt last night as she looked upon the bodies of the dead werewolves who had attacked her.

Carly sat across from James so that they could look at one another. "So tell me why these wolves have your sister and your nephew?"

The lonely wolf closed his eyes in palpable despair. "A couple months ago she took up with one of them, but I know they've been passing her around."

"So when you pull her out of there, is she going to have enough sense to stay away from wolves like that?"

James sniffed his tears back and answered, "I don't think they're being good to her right now, so I can't see her going back there. She really wanted out when she called me yesterday, and when I got there last night, she was all black and blue and cryin'."

"But if you don't hand me over, they'll kill her and probably you too, right?"

James nodded. "I'm sure they'll kill all of us. They're messed up, even for wolves."

"Why don't you have a pack?" Carly wanted all the information she could get before she helped him to retrieve his sister.

With more tears, James answered, "They all got killed in an explosion. One of alphas started making meth, and he blew everybody up."

Although she knew she'd made the decision when she brought him on the plane, Carly deepened her resolve and asked James, "Do you object to moving away and starting over?"

He shook his head furiously. "Why would I? I've been trying to get Jamie to leave here since Noah died, but she kept saying no. If she lives through this, I can't see how she'd say no now."

"Okay," Carly decided. "I'm going to bring the two of them to you, but you're going to have to help me, okay?"

"Whatever it takes," the wolf said as his voice broke and more tears poured down his face.

Carly sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. Friagabi said that she could "summon" Himmler to her. She'd brought Eric to her, she'd sent herself to Eric, and she'd sent the two of them to Fangtasia. Now, she was going to try something much more dangerous—probably if Eric were awake he'd talk her out of it, convince her that she was letting her powers go to her head, that she was getting prideful, and that pride goeth before a fall.

He probably wouldn't quote Christian scriptures, but there were plenty of Norse stories about prideful kings who overreached and wound up suffering terribly as a result.

When the flight attendant came to give her a drink, Carly just accepted water, and asked for one with a straw for James. "And I'm sorry, but could you go back up to the front for a little while? I need a little privacy."

The flight attendant looked at James, Eric's travel coffin, and then at Carly, and retreated quickly back to her seat on the other side of the partition, immediately beside the pilot's cabin. Carly didn't dare listen to her thoughts.

After giving him a few sips of water, Carly asked, "James, can you think of where you last saw your sister and your nephew for me? I need you to imagine yourself back where you saw them last and remember them as carefully as you possibly can."

"Okay," James agreed, "but why?"

"James," Carly said in her most commanding voice, "I don't need you to ask why, I just need you to do it, okay?"

Without questioning her again, James closed his eyes, and Carly took hold of his hands. Carly could see in James's mind Jamie as he knew her, the slight, skinny brunette, who fought valiantly as two heavily tattooed werewolves held her arms and lifted her off the ground. They both laughed, and one of them licked the side of her face, taunting her brother. Beside them, a woman, similarly dressed and tattooed, held the young child—probably about fourteen or sixteen months old. Not a baby, but not quite a full-fledged toddler. Mercifully, the woman turned away from the violent scene so that he wouldn't see his mother fight against her captors.

Carly took in every detail of the scene. She focused on Jamie's face, and the face of her son, and the beautiful iron gates behind them. Carly recognized the house immediately—Edgington's. As she stayed focused on Jamie, Carly let go of James and allowed the scene to accelerate through time. She witnessed the wolves who held her, and others, rape Jamie, all while her son was in the next room of the squalid cabin. Where Jamie was held wasn't in Edgington's mansion proper, but a little cabin outside, probably old slave quarters. It looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in years—beer cans and old pizza boxes littered every surface, including the edge of the bed where they assaulted her. Finally, Carly felt time slow again as the scene stabilized. Jamie was reunited with her son, and they were locked in a large closet within the cabin. The young woman had pulled clothes down from the closet rack and dressed herself as well as she could.

Pulling at the two of them, and willing them to join her in the plane, Carly tried to call them to her side, but she couldn't move them. After two or three tries, Carly began to become frustrated and remembered how she traveled along the smoke while she and Eric watched Christophe's paintings crackle on the bonfire. Soon, Carly felt the same weightlessness, but much greater volume. She felt herself go beneath the floor and through the gaps in the windows until she found the closet that held Jamie. When Jamie saw the smoke flooding under the door, she gathered up her sleeping son and started to scream, backing all the way to the rear of the closet and pulling clothes down off their hangers in an effort to block its streaming. Carly enveloped the two—Jamie and her son—in smoke and remembered the cabin of the plane.

When Carly opened her eyes, she held the unconscious bodies of Jamie and her young son. James, still restrained, was shaking, completely silent.

"Hey, um," Carly called to the flight attendant, "could you give me a hand here?"

When the other woman emerged from behind the partition, she let out another yelp, "What! What happened? Where did they come from?"

Groaning beneath their weight, Carly said, "It doesn't really matter. Can you help me get them off of me? Maybe you could cut him loose too?"

Jamie was un-movable, dead weight to the two women. Once James was cut free, however, he moved his sister easily, still grasping her son tightly, over to a set of seats across the narrow aisle in the cabin.

As the flight attendant retrieved a vial of smelling salts so that they could awaken Jamie and assess her condition, Eric sprang out of his travel coffin. Carly hadn't realized they'd flown straight into the sunset.

"Carly," Eric's voice did not conceal his irritation or worry, "what have you been doing?"

Standing to face him, Carly put her hands on her hips and said, "What I needed to do, Mr. Northman."

Eric raised his eyebrow and then smiled at her. "Obviously." Gathering her up into his arms, Eric whispered, "Are you all right?"

Carly stretched up to kiss him and said, "Do I still taste human?"

After a long kiss, Eric said, almost sadly, "No, you don't. But you're magnificent, delicious, and you're mine."

"Thank you," Carly replied as she kissed him again and drew him into the seat beside her. Pointing at the werewolf, Carly explained, "This is James Retton, and he's a werewolf who was sent to kidnap me to trade for his sister, Jamie," Carly pointed to the young woman and child, "and her son."

Jamie and the baby stirred because of the smelling salts, and then Jamie gasped when she saw her brother. "Where am I? Is this heaven?"

"No, 25,000 feet," Eric said in a dead-pan tone. "You're traveling by plane to New Jersey with me and my beloved, Carly, who I believe has just retrieved you from some kind of captivity."

"I don't know," Jamie started rattling off, "those friends of Cooter's, they put us in this big-ass closet, and then I saw smoke coming in under the door, and I thought we would suffocate. And now we're in a plane. Did the cabin burn down?"

"No," Carly answered. "You're fine and there was no fire." Directing her attention to Jamie's brother, Carly said, "James, you need to sit beside your sister." Touching her lover's face gently, Carly said, "I'm really tired, can you do the honors for them and for the flight attendant? Just let them think we stopped and picked them up at the airport in Jackson?"

Eric glamoured all three of the adults and the toddler, who quieted along with his mother, in one batch and held them silent for a few minutes until Carly and Eric decided how they were going to dispose of the three werewolves in New Jersey. "I think they can stay at my mom's."

"Out of the question, Carly," Eric denied imperiously. "I will not put your mother or her staff at risk. I'll pay for a motel for them for a month and give them a small stipend. Since James is a mechanic, perhaps we can get him a job in New Jersey under another name. Jean-Jacques should have connections at Teterboro. When I call him, I'll ask." Eric stroked Carly's hair to comfort her as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Rubbing her cheek against Eric's neck, Carly contemplated the change she felt taking hold in her. As Friagabi predicted, her life as a human being had come to an end. No longer did she feel bound by time or space, or bound by the inevitability of death—which she had continued to feel, even after she had been told that she would be immortal. "How do you cope with it, Eric?" Carly asked quietly. "How do you cope knowing the only way you'll meet your end is by violence?"

Eric embraced her tightly and drew her up into his lap. "I plan every day as if it were a battle—and I plan to be their undoing before they even get to me. I think of every moment as a puzzle. The world is a challenging maze that I navigate, outwitting my competition, watching it expand into the distance. Every day, our world changes, Carly, and I change along with it."

Startling suddenly, Carly met Eric's gaze, "Please, bite me. I need to know you can still feed from me. I couldn't bear it if you couldn't feed from me."

Eric touched her face gently, extended his fangs, and bit her neck. Carly felt him draw her blood into him, and sensed as it it filled his mouth and traveled into his body. Eric moaned quietly as he pulled away from her, his eyes heavy-lidded, his groin hardened, and his chest relaxed beneath her. "Eternity...you taste of eternity and raw magic, Carly. I am the luckiest creature in all the world."

Kissing passionately, the two of them rubbed and caressed while Carly's blood massaged Eric at the cellular level. When they finally pulled away from one another, Eric begged, "Take my blood, Carly. I want to be within you as I feel you within me."

After biting into his wrist, Eric pressed his bloody forearm against Carly's mouth and she sucked, nibbled, and drank eagerly at his wound. While his blood flowed down her throat, Carly saw images from Eric's life pass before her mind's eye. Dismissed without consideration, the scenes of Eric hunting and feeding disappeared, but the images of him sitting and talking with Godric remained, as did the irrepressible sensation of Eric's love for his maker and for his child. When Carly pulled her lips away, she smiled, and said, "We need to get back to Godric and Pam as soon as we're rid of Himmler. You probably don't want to be far from them."

The two lingered in their embrace until the plane began to descend toward. Eric fastened the werewolves' seat belts as well as the flight attendant's and then returned to Carly's side. "Thank you, Carly, for understanding."

"I can feel how happy you are to have Godric nearby again," Carly said quietly.

Smiling, Eric said, "I am happy to see him happy as well. I feared that I would lose him when he first arrived. Some of the elders have been known to meet the sun because of despair and ennui."

"I wish Russell felt some ennui," Carly sighed, but then felt Eric stiffen.

"Perhaps," he replied sullenly, "but I would prefer to avenge my family rather than watch him destroy himself."

"Do you have a preferred method? Or can I help?" Carly asked.

Eric squeezed her hand and said quietly, "We must see, beloved. You may be my best weapon, but I dread endangering you."

"What if the Authority destroys him?"

Eric shook his head. "I don't believe they will be able to. If they wish to, I would anticipate they would require a group of elders to do it. Thalia and Godric are the strongest of their age, but there are few who approach Russell's antiquity—at least that I know of."

With a sudden insight, Carly sat up straight and said, "I'll find out if there are any more ancient—Friagabi should know who they are and where we can find them. If any are from the same line as the Ancient Pythoness, they might be willing to help."

Eric kissed her forehead and said, "That's a good idea. This week will be difficult for us, but now that you're free of your limitations, you should feel more comfortable with your abilities and with your place in the world."

"Limitations?" Carly laughed. "My human limitations?" With her transformation into a valkyrie complete, Carly had no idea what to expect. Would she need to eat, or use the restroom, or would she do those things just for fun? Obviously, her father had been average enough to "pass" as human, except for the peculiar thing about photographs.

"Yes, my dear. You are now much more than you were."

With a small chuckle, Carly said, "More than I was...but more what?"

"We shall see. Your aunt will know, as I presume your mother may as well. Perhaps Jean-Jacques will have insights to share."

Until the plane descended into Teterboro airport, Eric and Carly sat wound in a tight embrace that allowed Carly to draw comfort from her lover. As the plane pulled into the gate, Eric roused the glamoured co-passengers and the flight attendant, who returned to puttering around the cabin in preparation for their disembarkation. Eric, meanwhile, began his chain of phone calls intended to find a perch for James and his eponymous sister.

"Carly," James asked quietly, "what's going to happen to us?"

Scrutinizing the three wolves, Carly considered the likeliest possibilities for their future. As she examined Jamie's visible fear and distrust, Carly foresaw a bleak future for her. The likeliest scenario, Carly knew, was that Jamie would hook up with another unsuitable man who would misuse her and saddle her with another unplanned and unwanted child. Before Carly and Eric abandoned them to their own devices, Carly would advise that James take some legal responsibility for his nephew, so that the child had some stable influence in his life.

"James," Carly responded, "Eric will set you up in a motel for a month, but you'll need to get a job."

"No," Eric interrupted as he hung up his phone. "You have a position if you're willing to swear your fealty to the king of New York, who controls this area as well. He agreed to consider you as a part of his own personal flight crew."

Shock clear on his face, James smiled, "Yes, please, thank you, sir. I'm grateful."

"You should be," Eric said as he leaned forward menacingly. "You should fall to your knees before my beloved, because I would have eviscerated you for even looking at her." Turning his attention to Jamie, Eric said, "But you, woman, before you leave this airplane, will tell me everything you can about Edgington's wolves."

"I only knew Cooter before they took us," she started to cry. "They told me they worked for an old vampire, but I never saw him, ever." Grasping her son to her chest, Jamie sobbed, "They hurt me, mister, I didn't do anything to help them."

As Jamie blubbered, Carly peered into her mind and found nothing that undermined her claims. During her entire captivity, she'd been held in the liminal spaces of Edgington's vast plantation—dilapidated old slave quarters that had been nominally restored for share-croppers in the 1920s and that were now held together by decaying wall-paper.

"She doesn't really know anything, Eric," Carly counseled.

Gripping her hand quickly before releasing it, Eric said, "Then you are your brother's problem. You're lucky Carly took pity on him and didn't slaughter him on sight."

Jamie gasped slightly before whispering, "Thank you," to Carly.

Carly instructed James on his new circumstances. Representatives from Jean-Jacques would be coming shortly to relocate James's family to a rent-by-the-week motel on the edge of Bergen, where he'd be provided with one of the automotive discards from Jean-Jacques's humans.

Once they were all off the plane—a motley group with the tall, kingly vampire and his tall, slender and imposing mate, along with a barely dressed young wolf-woman grasping hold to her son desperately, cowering in the shelter of her brother's shadow—a large panel-van approached, followed by a non-descript tan Buick.

A short African man stepped out of the Buick and approached Eric. "I've come for the wolves. Jean-Jacques asks if you wish to have any dominion over them?"

"None," Eric replied without emotion.

The African nodded. "Then you have no responsibility for them. And they must come with me."

Without any further greeting or briefing, Jean-Jacques's agent returned to the Buick, where he waited beside the open car door.

Before he retreated to the waiting car, James fell to one knee before Carly and said, "I submit to you and am grateful for your mercy."

The wolf waited for Carly to extend some blessing, but she stood dumb before him until Eric prompted her. "He waits for you to release him to his new master, Carly."

She looked to her vampire with some confusion. "What?"

"You spared his life, so you're his master, Carly." Eric shrugged dismissively before adding, "He belongs to you, so you must release him to serve Jean-Jacques."

With disbelief coloring her speech, Carly said, "James, I release you into Jean-Jacques's service. Be loyal and honest, and I'm certain you will come to no harm."

"Thank you," the wolf acknowledged before grasping his sister's arm. As they reached the car, Jamie looked over her shoulder fearfully toward Carly.

"I give her two years, Carly," Eric prophesied. "She'll be dead within two years. I told Jean-Jacques so some provision can be made for the cub."

Hoping for some affirmation, Carly asked, "Did I do the right thing saving her?"

Eric kissed her forehead after wrapping his arm around her shoulders and said, "You did what a kind being does. I wouldn't have done it, but I don't have your heart. I simply would have killed them all, although the cub would make an interesting pet."

"Eric!" She looked at him with shock, unclear whether he joked.

He smiled sardonically and added, "Once he was house-trained, at least. Let's get to my place."

In order for Jean-Jacques to maintain plausible deniability, they were going to stay at Eric's apartment, which would provide them safe haven and protect Edna and Abdullah from any risks. Eric refused to endanger her mother or her dear friend in any way. Although they had a skeleton of a plan, neither of them knew how it would unfold and what risks they were undertaking.

Once Himmler was safely stowed in the apartment, Carly and Eric freshened up and headed to Jean-Jacques's townhouse. Jean-Jacques's pleasant, although armed, butler Malcolm chauffeured them across town toward the townhouse and the three chatted pleasantly on the way across town.

"We've been very busy this week, Mr. Northman," Malcolm mentioned casually. "My king has been receiving vampires from outside the kingdom every day, even monarchs."

"Really?" Eric prompted. "Any southern monarchs of note? Jean-Jacques told me last we talked that he didn't expect any visitors from our region."

Malcolm looked into the rear-view mirror with a meaningful glance. "And we don't, although there has been some concern that Mississippi's designated representative has contacted the king for permission to enter the city."

"Indeed," Eric answered dispassionately as he watched the buildings pass by.

They pulled in front of the townhouse, and Malcolm escorted them to the door, looking over his shoulder suspiciously the whole time. Once admitted to the house, Carly heard her mother and Abdullah talking excitedly with Jean-Jacques as their voices approached. By the time they'd reached the new arrivals, another—Arianna-joined from upstairs.

"Mon amis," Jean-Jacques extended his arms toward Eric and Carly. As with their first meeting, Jean-Jacques drew Eric into a firm embrace and gave him a long kiss that still seemed overly-affectionate to Carly, even though she now knew that Jean-Jacques kept the same vows of celibacy, charity, and humility that he followed in his human life as a bishop, even though that ended over a millennium ago.

Within a few moments, Jean-Jacques released Eric and turned to admire Carly.

"Ma belle, your aunt told me that you had come into your own, but I was not prepared." He placed his right hand over his heart, bowed slightly, and added, "You are as magnificent and awe-inspiring as she."

Carly couldn't help but chuckle, even though she could tell he was deadly serious. "Really? It's that clear that I've changed?"

He nodded gravely, yet admiringly, "To these old eyes, indeed. Your mother will tell us what she sees as soon as I have greeted you properly." After that elaborate greeting, Jean-Jacques planted a kiss on Carly's lips, which she saw him lick inquisitively as he drew away. "Yes, indeed, you are much changed, for the better I wager."

Once her obligation to New York's monarch was discharged, Carly embraced her mother and asked, "Do you see what they're talking about?"

Edna shook her head sorrowfully, even though she smiled broadly at her daughter. "You look beautiful, Carly. You remind me even more of your dear father," Edna looked at Jean-Jacques and tilted her head in confusion, "but I'll admit I don't see a dramatic change in you from your last visit. You seem much more relaxed and much stronger. But, more than anything, you seem to carry yourself like your dad did."

Carly could see her mother's eyes mist over, so she hugged her tightly again. Abdullah kissed her hand, and as he let it fall to her waist level, she felt her Syrian friend slip a ring box into her hand. "My precious friend, I'm so happy to see you and so grateful for you to be at my show. But Jean-Jacques says that we must leave you to business," Abdullah intoned the word ominously, "and that we must wait until tomorrow to enjoy your company."

Once her mother and Abdullah were gone, Arianna-who had remained silent throughout the initial greetings-the two vampires, and Carly repaired into Jean-Jacques's library.

"I expect you had a good journey, my friends," Jean-Jacques began an unrelated conversational thread, "and that you are not too taxed by your charge?"

Arianna interrupted. "Before you begin, Jean-Jacques, may I welcome my niece more appropriately? She knows little of our true ways. Now that I see she has completed her transformation, I would like to greet her properly."

Jean-Jacques rotated his wrist in a gracious gesture and said, "Of course."

Striding slowly toward Carly, Arianna extended her arms, with her palms upward in an offertory pose. Carly responded instinctively and covered her aunt's hands with her own, although their palms did not meet. Instead, through the gap between them, energy surged back and forth. Along with that energy, Arianna shared her inward essence with her niece. Transmitted to Carly, memories and visions of Arianna's siblings, of her mother, of the surging north sea and the spectacular fjords and plains, rose and blossomed. In turn, Carly shared all she had, in her deepest psyche, with her aunt: her inexpressible love for Eric—so sudden and unexpected, but now so eternal and durable—along with a childhood of maternal adoration punctuated by self-loathing and anxiety. Her lifetime of memories that were not her own, her confusion about her deepest self, all that troubled her poured away and became transformed in her aunt's hands.

Somehow now greater than she was, Carly retreated from the overpowering intimacy and turned to face Eric, who now stood shaken, leaning against an elaborately carved cabinet. Awe emanated from his face, and when Carly looked from Eric to Jean-Jacques, she saw the same expression, elaborated by Jean-Jacques's pose—his hand placed over his heart.

"What?" Carly asked quietly, staring back and forth from one to the other.

Eric gained his footing and moved tentatively toward his lover. "Vampires rarely see such displays of raw magic, Carly. We are humbled-" Eric winked rakishly- "although the pride that you are mine undermines that humility considerably."

Jean-Jacques added, "Perhaps you should know what we saw, sweet child." Reaching across the the distance that separated them, Jean-Jacques grasped her hand. "You see within us, yes, so see for yourself."

Carly concentrated and at once Jean-Jacques's memory played out before her: the two women stood, light in the full spectrum of the rainbow reflecting back and forth between their hands until it spilled over and encircled them in a rapid cyclone of light.

"No wonder you were astonished, Eric," Carly said as she released the king's hand.

Arianna continued, "True valkyries share with one another that way each time they meet. We've cemented our connection to one another, my beloved kinswoman. We are all grateful you have come to us."

"Thank you, Arianna. I wasn't sure what it would mean to be entirely valkyrie, but I think I'll be okay." Carly smiled at her aunt. "Although, I don't know what life will be like."

With a serious face, Arianna said, "Compassion is more important than anything else, Carly, especially for yourself, since you must never be roused to anger. You are called to do justice, Carly, not revenge."

Eric snorted. "There's a difference?"

Jean-Jacques nodded and sighed, "Yes, my friend. Revenge takes our eyes from the good—from the true, eternal good that links us all together-" Jean-Jacques paused, either moved himself, or for effect- "while justice returns our attention back to the good, realigns us with what is harmonious and balanced."

Drawing Carly toward him, with his arm around her waist, Eric said meditatively, "Then are our plans for our unwilling guest sound?"

"Yes," Jean-Jacques motioned for them to sit, "we must discuss him. I notified two acquaintances of mine who might simplify your task."

"The Mossad agents?" Carly inquired.

Jean-Jacques nodded. "Yes. Eric told me you planned to secure some evidence of Himmler's identity, so that you might expose him."

"You believe they might have something useful?"

With a sly smile, Jean-Jacques responded. "They had something useful, but they have given it to me, for you."

Walking over to the chest that had supported Eric earlier, Jean-Jacques removed a small box and handed it to Carly. "I believe all you need is within."

Carly opened the box, where she discovered Himmler's last issued passport from 1942. Although "Henry Welkin" wore his hair differently and had shaved, he was still clearly the man in the old photograph. The box also held an account of a detailed physical examination, which enumerated his identifying marks and all his measurements, including caliper measurements of his skull so detailed Carly could have used them to reconstruct his face.

"This is amazing," Carly's voice—low and measured—held her admiration. "Thank you, Jean-Jacques. All we need to do is secure an outlet."

"Yes, indeed." Eric steepled his fingers as he considered the options. "Do you have any connections with CNN, Jean-Jacques?"

Carly added quickly, before the king could answer, "This could backfire terribly, though." Carly imagined the scenarios. If Himmler revealed himself, but wasn't penitent, then he could inspire neo-Nazis and reinvigorate anti-Semites and racists around the world. Worst of all, he might provide new recruits for Russel Edgington's strange vampire-supremacy or even inspire a cult among vampire-obsessed humans. Alternatively, the revelation that vampires could provide the worst among humans with eternal life could amplify existing anti-vampire sentiment.

Jean-Jacques nodded seriously and answered both questions simultaneously. "I understand your reticence, Carly, but I have faith in your abilities—and your aunt's support." Turning his attention to Eric, he added, "I've been cultivating a young reporter at CNN with whom I've been favorably impressed. In fact, I'm considering making her my progeny."

"That's an impressive endorsement, your majesty." Eric was favorably impressed, but he remained contemplative, as did the rest of them.

Finally, after about five minutes, Carly stood and said, "Okay. If we have the identification, and we have a willing reporter, why are we waiting?"

"Carly, I do not believe we have reason to wait, although I am expecting Edgington's partner and progeny Talbot to arrive tomorrow evening. If we act before Angelis's arrival, we run the risk of Edgington accompanying him to New York." Jean-Jacques strolled across the room, deep in thought, before adding, "I have a responsibility to the entire city, not just the vampires."

"Of course," Eric concurred. "So we need to establish a plan for disposing of Edgington if he arrives in New York and seeks retribution."

"He will only seek retribution, I believe," Jean-Jacques suggested, "if Himmler reveals his identity. If Edgington becomes a target for human anger, he's likely to lash out against humans and vampires alike." Jean-Jacques shifted his cuff-links and said forcefully, "If we could dispose of him with the least loss of life, all would benefit."

Carly's mind raced from one idea to another. Apart from Godric's stories, her own visions, and what she'd seen of him herself, Carly knew very little about Edgington, his motivations, or his likely responses to any attack. She knew that he was covetous, greedy, gluttonous—she knew he longed to walk in the sun, that he sought out fairies that he could breed forever, just as he had his werewolves. But she also knew—from encountering his mentally deficient werewolves—that Edgington practiced bad husbandry. The werewolves who served him were idiots.

From that fact, she inferred that he liked to think of himself as all-powerful but was too lazy to keep an eye on the projects he'd begun. He was doing the same thing with Himmler. Edgington had turned him, succored him through his early days as a vampire, and then let him loose on the populace, but didn't communicate regularly with him. He relied entirely on the bond he shared with his offspring, whom he likely considered to be "disposable."

Perhaps Edgington, then, wouldn't be as incensed about Himmler's confession and potential demise as they thought. Perhaps, if Himmler revealed Edgington's identity, the king would simply slip away along with his precious collection of ancient artifacts.

"I think we should move tonight," Carly decided. "Do you think it's possible to notify the Authority about Edgington? Can they be on standby?"

Jean-Jacques seemed concerned and hesitated. "I fear that the Authority might be just as much of a threat to human safety as Russell Edgington. As frightening as the prospect may be, I believe we should wait to see how he reacts to Himmler's confessions. Do you have a plan beyond having Himmler reveal himself?"

"No," Eric answered. "I believe that Carly hopes to fill him with guilt so that he throws himself on human authorities."

"Not guilt," Arianna intervened, "but suffering. My people nearly went mad during that decade with the slaughter the Nazis and Stalin effected. The whole century was a nightmare, but that one sliver was so particularly senseless it was maddening. We will channel all that suffering directly to Carly, who then can fill Himmler with it until he is desperate for release."

"We can't do that here, though." Carly considered Edgington's response and realized that Jean-Jacques couldn't provide a location. "I'll need to be alone with him." Combing through her memories, Carly settled on the one place in New York City where she could imagine such a grave and meaningful action as transferring the collective horror of the Holocaust into the mind of one man. "I'll go to my family's mausoleum. It's big enough and entirely private, but it's also in Brooklyn." Carly turned to Arianna and asked, "Would you mind going there with me—directly?"

Arianna smiled at her niece. "How many times have you transported yourself?"

"A few times, but I'm not concerned. It feels like the best thing to do." Carly found that her confidence surprised her, but she didn't hesitate. The idea of moving herself directly out to the familiar family crypt at Green-Wood cemetery, where generations of her family were tightly packed into a marble edifice, seemed perfectly safe and reasonable.

"Can you call your reporter and ask her to be at their offices?"

Jean-Jacques nodded his assent. "Yes, of course. Her name is Soraya. I'll make sure she's waiting for you at their Times Square office."

Carly embraced her beloved and kissed him. "I'll see you soon?"

Eric looked her directly in the eye and said, "Do not let him hurt you, Carly. And remember, there's nothing you can do to change what has already happened."

After another kiss, Carly grasped her aunt's hand and transported both of them to the Brooklyn crypt. Their eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, although the interior of the crypt enjoyed a little light from an old stained glass window that bore their Dutch coat of arms, granted to the first ancestor to settle in New York City. Carly wondered inwardly, recalling that Jean-Jacques knew her family since their first days in New York. Of course, he had no idea that the old Knickerbocker family would eventually yield a valkyrie.

Breathing deeply, Carly asked Arianna, "How much of this will I have to feel?"

"All of it, I'm afraid," Arianna grimaced, "as will I. But once you direct it into him, you will not be able to recall the experience. You should prepare yourself for an unimaginable horror while it lasts. You must," she gripped Carly's wrist tightly, "finish the process and transfer these memories to him, or you will suffer. I doubt you will be able to function."

For a moment, Carly wondered why she'd chosen this path. Feeling herself filled with power, she knew she could kill Himmler in a myriad of ways. She could transport him directly into the sunrise—send him into the rocky desert of Morocco where there would be nowhere he could hide. Her simplest choice, of course, would be just to stake him, since he was still in the suspended state that she'd left him. But this path—the path where he might see something approaching justice, where vampires could be perceived as ethical beings that had a sense of right and wrong—refused her easy passage.

"Okay, let me get him here." Carly closed her eyes and imagined Eric's apartment and the silver-lined coffin where Himmler lay. She enveloped him in her energy and summoned him to her. When she opened her eyes, he lay before her on the granite slab that rested over the van Heusen patriarch.

Himmler remained still, his eyes closed, and Carly could see how drawn he'd become even after only a couple of days of fasting. Seeing his debilitated state—seeing his hunger—Carly knew that she had to have everything ready before she touched him.

"Arianna, how do we start?"

"Are you ready?" Her aunt asked gently, suggesting Carly could still find another way to resolve the situation.

"It's what needs to be done."

"Then open yourself to us all, Carly." Arianna held out her hand, which Carly took without hesitation before closing her eyes. Within seconds, Carly felt all of them—all of her people, the valkyries, the guides to the slaughtered, the conduits who spread energy throughout the universe, who transformed death to life—embrace her. They became one mind, one spirit, and her consciousness extended through each one of them. They were the cauldron, they were the vortex of life and death that circulated through humanity, through the earth itself, extending into all nine realms. With this realization, she tugged at the thread of memory, until it unwrapped itself and began to unwind.

The first sensation was fear—a child's fear at the sound of broken glass that presaged the sound of boots on her father's skull. Next came the odors—the smells of burning books and burning flesh. The sensations of skin touching skin—cold and shriveled, lice-ridden, desperate for a shower—preceded the feelings of drowning, of desperate attempts to catch one's breath, before drowning in gas. And these feelings multiplied, and expanded, punctuated by the sounds of revolvers emptying bullets into heads lined along trenches dug by the hands that would soon die. The cries of mothers and children silenced in darkened chambers, or smothered in drafting railcars. And multiplied again, and again, into the millions.

Added to the sensations of bodies that suffered concussion from shells, and the heat of burning buildings, and the impact of tank shells, multiplied, again, and again.

When Carly doubted she could feel any more and still recognize herself among all the minds, all the memories, she touched Himmler's face—just as she'd instructed him she would to awaken him from his fugue. At the moment her fingers met his skin, the millions of lives she felt disappearing, without logic or justification, rammed into his mind. A mere vampire—just a shell of a being—he was unable to bear it. As the last bits of memory passed through her and into him, he cried out: "Mein Gott!"

Himmler shook and blubbered, and Carly watched as blood poured from his eyes and covered his hands. The two valkyries watched the Nazi writhe in pain, bathing in his sulfurous guilt until he reached some equilibrium.

"Yes." Himmler said quietly. "It is not enough, but I must surrender myself."

"You look awful," Arianna commented. "Let's find a hose." The elder valkyrie grabbed hold of her niece and the Nazi and transported them outside the crypt, where they sought a landscaping shed or water source.

They soon found one and Himmler washed himself off until he was more presentable.

Still numb from her experience, although Arianna was right and she couldn't recall any details, Carly asked, "So where do you want to surrender?"

Himmler looked around the landscape absently and then looked at the two women. "I must give my testimony, but I do not know if I am even still considered a combatant. Perhaps I could lay some of the myths to rest? Perhaps I can silence the deniers by coming forward." As if coming to a conclusion, he said, "Yes. If you could take me to a reporter, I will tell my story, and then surrender myself to the Israelis for trial."

Carly sighed, glad that he had arrived at almost the same plan they had. Somehow, she doubted that he would be truly contrite, even after experiencing the full extent of the horror that he had helped to cause.

"You'll want these." Carly handed him the identifying documents Mossad had provided to Jean-Jacques. "Now, we're going to go to CNN, and you're going to ask for a reporter named Soraya."

His eyes seemed on the verge of tears again. "Will you stay with me?"

"No," Carly's voice gathered strength. "You have to talk to her on your own."

Himmler nodded and extended his hand. "Shall we? At last, I meet a valkyrie, but I am not destined for Valhalla, but for shame and oblivion. It was all so wrong, Ms. Michael."

Carly grasped his hand and sent them to Times Square, visualizing as she transported them the din of human traffic so that they might fade into the crowd without drawing notice to themselves. Once inside the CNN lobby, Himmler asked for Soraya, who immediately took him upstairs for an interview.

As Carly left the surprisingly small lobby, she realized that no fewer than three video cameras had captured her image. _Wonder if I'll be like dad now? No more photos..._

With the memory of her father's blurry photos in her mind, Carly stepped into the revolving door and emerged back in Jean-Jacques's library.

"I guess we wait now," she said as she sat on Eric's lap, resting her head on his shoulder, happy to be reunited with her viking.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

The four—two vampires and two valkyries—sat silently, waiting for the reporter's notification. Soraya's text message to Jean-Jacques—confirming Himmler's admissions and desire to speak to the world—had come half an hour before and that beep was the only sound that had broken their reverie.

As they sat, Carly explored the boundaries of her connection to Eric, which now felt more alive, more vibrant, deeper than it had before. Now, she felt as if she could move through his body, through his experiences, through his emotions, as easily as she could now move through space.

In the midst of waiting for their world to erupt, Carly wished to feel Eric at his most joyful—to feel the love for life that animated him. As she concentrated on the joy she felt with him, she found herself within his memories.

The wind blew in hurricane gusts over the ice-cold sea that lapped against his swimming body as he darted between the waves, at times floating on their crests to gain speed, at times breaking through them to avoid obstacles. At the periphery of his sight, Godric matched him stroke for stroke as the plowed through the darkness. Without warning, Eric encountered the slick body of an orca, grabbed its dorsal fin, and descended with it into the depths before he rose again, now having outpaced Godric. His victory in the swimming contest assured, Eric leapt out of the ocean like a porpoise and let out a victorious war cry.

Carly giggled softly.

"Are you cavorting around in my mind, lover?" Eric asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry." She raised her head from his shoulder and looked apologetically into his eyes.

"Don't be. As long as you've found a happy memory, I'm happy. There's a great deal of darkness, however, that you should avoid."

"You were swimming with Godric and a whale," Carly explained as quietly as she could.

"A swimming contest!" Jean-Jacques exclaimed. "Why don't you entertain us with the tale, viking."

Eric sought Carly's approval, which she gave readily, before slipping down to the floor for "story-time."

"When Godric turned me, he was feral, a wild man. He spoke my language, since he'd watched my people for so long. He said our battles were like dances. At the end of the day, he would comb through the enemy looking for those who clung to life but had been left behind. He drained them, setting them free and feeding without raising suspicion." Eric looked to Jean-Jacques, who nodded, clearly remembering the difficulties they once experienced.

"As he was, we could never be seen. We had to linger at the edges of settlements, never going among people. We never heard music, unless we skulked outside halls, like Grendel. Even if we had to remain in shadow, I still wanted the joys of human life—clean clothes, music, song, sex." He winked at Carly. "But I couldn't convince Godric to wash or to put on decent clothes. So I challenged him—I said that I could swim farther and faster than he, even though he was older."

Eric leaned back in his chair and laughed. "By the time we swam from one side of Scandinavia to the other, he was finally clean. We glamoured a woman into making clothes for us that fit and sheltering us in her hay loft beneath skins, and we began our lives as civilized beings."

Carly straightened up and said, "But the whale! You didn't say anything about the swim."

"I think it is fresher in your mind now, my darling, than it is in mine," Eric laughed. "Why don't you tell this part of the tale?"

Returning to Eric's lap, Carly recounted what she'd seen. "It was night and the wind blew violently over them, churning up these huge waves." Carly described the scene with such enthusiasm that Jean-Jacques and Arianna both laughed and gasped at the appropriate moments in the tale. "And finally, he jumped out of the water and yelled like he'd just won a battle!"

Jean-Jacques's cell phone began to ring with the strangest tone Carly had ever heard—something that sounded like crying animals. "And it begins," he said before answering the phone, "Beloved friend, how is the king of Mississippi?"

Placing his finger across his lips to indicate silence, Jean-Jacques added, "My dear Russell, I am painting, so I must put you on speaker, yes?"

"Whatever you want, Jean-Jacques, I just need your attention, so I would prefer," Edgington drawled, "that you stopped what you were doing and listened to your elder."

"As you remind me so often, Russell, yes. What may I do for you this evening?" Jean-Jacques rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"My most recent progeny, Henry, was most recently in Louisiana, but suddenly I feel his presence differently. As I contemplated more, I felt he was in New York, and in great distress." Russell's voice betrayed anger and what sounded, to Carly, like sincere concern.

"Remarkable, Russell, the sense you have for your progeny. I hope that I will be as perceptive a maker as you."

"Cut the shit, Bishop," Russell growled. "Have you seen him?"

Jean-Jacques winked at Arianna, who blushed slightly, "No, Russell. I have not seen or spoken to your Henry. With such a close connection to your progeny, wouldn't you have known he was traveling?"

"Yes," Russell admitted, "that is one reason why I'm concerned. He was in that damned slave's territory, and who knows what kind of things he traffics with. Maybe Godric had some voodoo priestess fuck him up. But he's on your territory now, so I expect you to do something about it!"

"Dear Russell," Jean-Jacques said sweetly, "you know if he had presented himself to me, or if he had sought my permission to enter my territory, I would do something, but I cannot be held responsible for someone in New York without prior notice. And given his," Jean-Jacques paused for effect, "special status..."

"What the hell are you talking about, Jean-Jacques?" Russell's voice dripped with venom.

Smiling widely, Jean-Jacques said, "As you know, I have a few friends in Louisiana. My closest, Thalia, I believe you know her well, Russell..."

"I fear so..."

"Thalia informed me that Mr. Welkin made no secret of his identity as a human," Jean-Jacques reported. "In fact, he made so bold as to reveal himself to a human. Thalia witnessed it herself, and we all know that her word is absolutely unimpeachable, given her character, her lineage, and her age."

"Yes," Russell admitted, deflating audibly. "To a human. Well, I never told him he had to conceal himself entirely, although I did instruct him to keep my identity quiet."

"Alas, I fear he did not do that either."

"So what, Jean-Jacques, do you propose to do?"

"I propose that when he makes himself known to one of my subjects, I will intervene. Before then, I have no responsibility, and only hope that he will contact you directly in the mean time." Jean-Jacques stood and took on the posture of triumph.

After a few moments of silence, Russell said, "Then you give me no choice, Jean-Jacques. May I have your permission to travel to New York City to search for my progeny, known as Henry Welkin?"

"No, I fear, my dear Russell. I think it is best that you remain in Mississippi until we have more information. Once we have heard something concrete, we may revisit the issue." Jean-Jacques did a brief jig. "Somehow, I anticipate I will hear from you soon enough, Russell."

"Jean-Jacques..."

"Mr. Edgington, although you exceed my status in age, your wealth and influence pale in comparison to mine. I fully intend to wield them to find your child, but until I know more, you are not welcome in my territory. Is that clear?"

Russell growled audibly, "And you wish to go forward with that? I could send my wolves and you would never know."

Jean-Jacques laughed. "You may have your wolves, my dear friend, but I have my witches, who have warded every inch of my borders. A wolf with bad intent would not fare well for very long. And after those unfortunate events downtown, flying into my territory is no guarantee of access."

Russell slammed the phone down on the receiver, ending the call.

Clapping his hands happily, Jean-Jacques said, "Our game is afoot."

Carly stood and stretched slightly before saying, "Well, I guess we have a day or two before we must deal with Russell Edgington in New York City. I guess now we just have to wait to see when Soraya will broadcast Himmler's confession."

The king's phone beeped loudly. "Ah, perhaps we shall now know." Jean-Jacques read the text message aloud. "He will stay in a locked closet here. Interview/confession broadcast one hour after dark tomorrow."

"So we have tonight, my love," Eric stood and took Carly's hand. "You will not mind our absence in the intervening time, your majesty?"

"Of course, you deserve time for romance in this extraordinary city of ours. Ah, before I forget," Jean-Jacques returned to his a box on his mantlepiece, "I secured these for you."

The king handed Carly and Eric two cards in their names that were labeled "VVIP." Jean-Jacques explained, "If you call the number on the reverse, you can ask for special access to a number of facilities, although tonight is one of the designated nights at the Metropolitan Museum and at the Guggenheim."

"I don't think we'll go to a museum," Eric pulled Carly toward him.

"Why not?" Carly objected.

"Because I plan to return to my condominium and ravish you. You forget that I have yet to make love to a full-fledged valkyrie." Turning his attention to Arianna, he asked, "Any warnings?"

She laughed heartily in return. "No, dear viking. I anticipate you should find nothing but enjoyment."

"Stop!" Carly blushed and laughed. "This is a little weird."

"We only tease because we all adore you, Carly," Jean-Jacques responded. "You are a precious addition to our world that we would not forsake under any circumstances."

"Thank you," Carly giggled again. "So let's go, Eric."

After saying their farewells, they went out onto the street. They'd refused Malcolm's attendance and intended to make their own way back to Eric's place. The two strolled the New York City streets, enjoying the brisk late fall air. As they walked along, they noticed small groups of costumed revelers who had clearly decided that they couldn't wait any longer for Halloween.

"Can we go to my favorite place?" Carly asked playfully.

Stealing a kiss, Eric asked, "And wouldn't that be right here with me?"

"That's my favorite state," she answered. "My favorite place—my favorite spot when I was little—was Bethesda Fountain. But I could only stand to go there at night, which wasn't always so safe. My mom accommodated me and took me there. Can we go there now? To sit with the angels?"

"As you wish, my beloved," Eric answered before offering another kiss.

The two—valkyrie and viking—wove their way to the south end of Central Park, eventually coming before the Angel of the Waters, who stood authoritatively above the rotunda.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful it is," Eric said quietly. "I rarely come into the park when I visit, since I'm usually in meetings from dusk until dawn."

Carly drew Eric to the edge of the fountain and pushed him down so that he sat. "I have something for you, Eric."

"A present?" Eric leaned forward and stole another kiss. "Isn't this a little public for a gift?"

"Filthy minded viking," Carly chastised. "Close your eyes."

Carly drew the ring box out of her pocket and covered it with Eric's fingers. "I had this made for you."

Eric opened his eyes and then the box, revealing the signet ring inscribed with a Mjollnir. "It's beautiful, lover. Thank you."

Eric slipped it onto his right ring finger, where it fit perfectly. "Do you mind if it's on my right hand?"

"No," Carly replied. "It's not a wedding ring. It's a gift—a stone the color of your eyes. And you can make it your seal. It should last for a thousand years." Carly embraced him and said, "When you gave me my ring, I thought you deserved a gift as well."

Gathering her up in his arms, Eric whispered, "I shall treasure it as I treasure you, my beloved. And you are as transcendent as this symbol. I beg you, never flee from me."

"Never," Carly replied. "I will always be yours."

Once they cleared the threshold of Eric's apartment, they began to peel away their clothes, leaving a trail of garments from the door to the bedroom. Their kisses lingered along their throats, drinking in the texture of their skin. Eric dragged his teeth along Carly's neck lapping up the blood that his fangs exposed. Carly wrapped her legs around Eric's waist, pressing his pelvis into her own, desperate to feel him inside her.

"Please," she begged. "Please, I want you inside me."

Eric tossed her onto the bed and stood defiantly. "Not until I say." Naked, Eric stalked along the foot of the bed. "When I decide, I will fill you up until you won't be able to do anything but cry my name."

"Show me," Carly goaded her lover. "You're lots of talk, Eric Northman, but I don't see any action."

Jumping on top of her, Eric bared his fangs again and said, "Just watch." Eric buried his face in her belly, kissing and licking until he found his way to the point where she began to pant and squeal, until she began to quiver and shake with her orgasm.

Eric climbed back up her body, and then pressed himself within her until she gasped. "Yes," he whispered as he gained speed. The friction between them lit their fire. Blue flames licked at their limbs until finally consuming them. Their backs arched as the reached ecstatic heights together. Carly and Eric felt their consciousness blend together. The transcendent ecstasy—the loss of self and other—drew them together in spirit and body until Carly felt an irrepressible hunger. She bit into his chest, and Eric cried out as she drank him in. He responded by puncturing her wrist and sucking in her essence. As they consumed one another, their fires grew hotter and they rose off the bed.

"Magic," Eric sighed. "You're magic, Carly."

"Maybe. Are you hungry?"

"Not at all. It's as if you're enough, as if I need nothing more than you." Eric kissed her again.

"And you're not weakened by what I took?"

Eric shook his head. "No. I feel as strong as ever. You?"

"A little like a vampire..."

Laughing, Eric said, "Well, a valkyrie is a little like a vampire. As long as it's only my blood you drink, you shouldn't encounter any problems."

"Except thirst..."

"Which you can slake anytime you like."

Carly wrapped herself around Eric's body and said, "I think that I'm thirsty again."

Eric pushed Carly back onto the bed and hissed, "I think that I like this new strength of yours."

After hours more of making love and playing, wrestling, and talking, Eric slipped into his rest for the day, while Carly remained awake. She went over the list of Pam's demands and plotted her course of action for the day, so that she could complete her all her work before Eric awoke.

With her mother along, Carly thought she might have a little bit of an easier time, especially with some of the high-end stores, although Pam did provide contact numbers for more exclusive shops and private vendors.

"Mom?" Carly asked when her mom picked up the phone.

"Hi darling," Edna yawned, "you're up surprisingly early."

"I guess I didn't think about how late you'd been up. I'm sorry, mom. Should I call back later?" Carly looked at the clock and winced, realizing she'd called at 7:45 AM.

"No, Carly, please, just make your way over and we can have some tea." Edna yawned again and added, "Did you have plans for today?"

"I was hoping you'd like to go shopping with me."

"Shopping?" Edna began laughing and couldn't restrain herself. "My daughter wants to go shopping?"

"Yes, mother," Carly knew she'd be in for this kind of treatment from her mother, so she sighed. "Does it make it better that it isn't my idea?"

"You must really love this vampire of yours if you're running errands for him." Carly's mother began to cackle.

"Yes, mom, I do," Carly sighed again. "But it's not for him, but his progeny, Pam."

"Oh, this is rich. You're going shopping to keep his little girl happy, since you've taken her daddy away for the week."

Carly huffed one more time and said, "I'll just see you in a little bit, and you can tease me all you want then."

The shopping list gathered up into her purse along with her list of addresses and phone-numbers, Carly headed toward the door, but then puckishness took hold. She followed Eric's instructions to set the alarm and then focused her concentration on her mother, thinking of how her mother always began her day looking out her window at her flower boxes.

The skyline of New York flashed by Carly's eyes, and she felt the swirl and surge of New York City life zoom past her, until she found herself, purse in hand, standing behind Edna. Carly put her hands over her mother's eyes and said, "Guess who?"

"How?" Edna startled and stood, nearly falling before Carly embraced her.

"You said I reminded you more of Dad. I think Dad could do this too." Carly smiled at her mom and said, "If I've got to shop for the concupiscent Pam, I'll at least save on cab fare."

"So you can pop yourself anywhere?"

"I'm still learning. I don't really know what my limits are, but it was definitely easier to get to you, and what I did yesterday."

Edna took her daughter's hand and said, "I can't handle any long stories without a cup of tea, or maybe coffee, or coffee with bourbon, depending on how much the story will make me worry about you."

Once they'd made the tea, Carly sipped at it tentatively, still unsure how food and drink would affect her. She found it as refreshing as any she'd had before, and soon felt the need to go to the bathroom, just as she would have before her apparent final transformation. She did sense that she excreted almost exactly the same amount she'd consumed.

Carly told her mother the story of rescuing the two werewolves, and Edna gasped at all the predictable moments. When Carly reported Eric's concern for Edna's safety, and that of her staff at the Flemington farm, Edna said, "Well, at least your vampire has enough sense to protect us all."

"Mom, I'm sorry. I just thought that this man might be useful to you." Shame rushed through Carly's body, and she felt her face flush.

"Man—you mean wolf, don't you!" Edna hugged herself with visible distress. "Jean-Jacques has told me about the shape-shifters, and I have to say," Edna shivered a little, "they frighten me."

"More than vampires?" Carly laughed. "Really, mom?"

"Carly, vampires can select their offspring." Edna grew serious before adding, "But the shape-shifters have the same sort of pressures on them of any endangered community. What is it, you explained it to me at one point when I went to visit you in Albuquerque, when you started your degree?"

"Explained what?"

"About marriage—about marrying your own kind."

"Oh," Carly remembered the conversation Edna referenced. "You mean endogamy."

"Yes!" Edna became expansive again. "I remember your explaining the consequences of endogamy and the risks of birth defects and infertility over time. All I could think about were the Knickerbockers and how dim-witted some of them became."

"So you're glad you married a valkyrie?" Carly giggled, but her mother grew serious, leaning across the table.

"Every day, Carly." Edna's eyes glistened with tears. "Every day I think of your father and I'm grateful I knew him and that he gave me you. No matter what kind of trouble you had, you were an unbelievable gift to me." Edna reached across the table and squeezed Carly's hand. "To know that you're happy, and in love, it means the world to me."

Carly rose and embraced her mother, sharing as much love and respect with her as she could. "Mom, I'm grateful you had me. Thank you."

Edna wiped her eyes and said, "Well, you've hinted this Pam is quite demanding, so we better get started."

After Edna had prepared for their day, she examined Pam's wishlist (or insistence-list). "We're going to need appointments for a few of these, dear."

Using all of her contacts, Edna put together a full itinerary of appointments, adding a few of her own, since she felt confident she could take advantage of Carly's commitment to shopping to get Carly into some clothes that she wanted for her. Since Carly seemed more confident now that she was entirely a valkyrie, so perhaps the girl would finally consent to a better style of clothing—one that wasn't suited to digging in the dirt.

Edna chuckled at Pam's list. Quickly Edna figured out what Carly had not. Although Pam claimed that all the shopping was for things that Pam wanted, all the clothing required extensive fittings, and Pam had insisted that the fittings be done to Carly's measurements, not her own.

"Pam certainly has exquisite taste," Edna complimented as Carly inspected herself in the mirror.

"She does," Carly agreed, "although I don't really feel like this is her style. She's usually much more conservative," Carly explained while she looked at herself in the provocative dress. "This is the kind of stuff she dresses me up in."

Edna laughed and asked, "Could she have intended this for you?"

"You think so?" Carly inspected the rear and side views and decided that she liked them. "Well, if so, I'm glad. Although this means that we only have three more pieces to buy, so they better be for her."

"Are you feeling spoiled, my darling?"

Carly giggled a little as she disrobed on the other side of the dressing room. "A little bit, mom. The worst of it is that I think I'm getting used to it."

"It's about time, Carly."

"Mom!" Carly had always resisted family efforts to dress her in the latest fashions. Her uncle Benjamin had tolerated her relaxed style, although he always complained that she would look marvelous in Armani and Chanel.

Their final stop was a tiny antique store in Greenwich Village that billed itself as a home for the odd and obscure. Edna knew the owners by reputation, although not in person. When she'd introduced herself as a "friend of Pam's and of Abdullah's," the owner gushed with enthusiasm over meeting her.

When the two women went through the door, an ancient Tibetan bell jingled.

The tall clerk, who looked like Morticia Adams, stood and rushed toward the door. "Are you Edna and Carly?"

"Yes," Edna answered. "Are you Elena?"

"No," the young woman answered, "I'm Angelique. Elena and Marcus are in the back. I'll get them."

Morticia waddled to the back in her tight dress, and Elena and Marcus emerged, nearly prancing with enthusiasm to meet the friends of Pam and Abdullah.

"Hello!" Marcus enthused as he emerged through the black curtain. Elena followed with a black wooden box.

"Hi," Carly answered, reaching out to Elena's mind to determine the contents of the box. When she encountered a dark barrier, she recoiled.

Elena looked startled and answered, "I would prefer you simply ask, Ms. Michael."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what to ask first." Carly wanted to ask what Elena was, but recalled how distressing that question was when she was asked.

Elena replied silently, _Please, Carly, this is awkward, because Marcus doesn't know exactly what I am. _

_And that is? _Carly responded.

_A fairy, Carly. Or at least mostly. I gather you have some exposure to us._

"So I'm guessing," Carly smiled, "that Pam's order is within the box, yes?"

"Indeed," Elena agreed. "We've been looking for it for six weeks. And it just turned up last week."

Elena placed the box on the zinc-topped counter at the front of the store. Sealing the box was an arcane-looking brass lock that seemed to be at least two hundred years old, even though the box didn't have enough features to give Carly enough material to assess its age accurately.

Once Elena turned the key, Carly felt a wave of power roll toward her. "Pam has been looking for that?"

"She asked for it shortly after she met you," Elena explained. "And we found it last week."

As the lid opened, Carly breathed in a cloud of power. When it was fully open, she saw the glint of gold emanating from within. A bracelet, with entwined dragons and wolves, gleamed.

"It's amazing," Carly said breathlessly.

"Do you recognize it?" Elena asked.

"No, should I?"

"Pam thought you might." Elena suggested, before pointing toward it. "You should put it on. That's what she wanted you to do. This is for you."

Carly looked at the bracelet, and as she neared it, she felt energy arc between it and her arm. When she slipped her hand within it, the bracelet contracted, lying snug against her skin.

Breathing deeply, Carly felt herself animated, invigorated, filled with energy that transcended the moment she found herself in. Edna took a swift inhalation as Carly's skin seemed to catch fire.

"What is it, darling?"

"I don't know, mom, but it's mine. See?" Carly displayed the tightly fitting bracelet. Touching the dragon's head, Carly focused on the facets of the garnets that stared up at her. Reflected back at her, Carly saw Eric's father.

"Carly," he said in Old Norse, although she understood him, "it's time for this to be over. This token belonged to my father, who defied his brother. We died because he wouldn't pay fealty to the wolves, that he refused to submit to his family, to the _vargr_, that he chose to live among men, to name me Ulfrik, king of the wolves, even though I had never taken on their skin, by choice."

"I will do all I can," Carly whispered to the vision of Eric's father.

"You are his valkyrie, Carly," Ulfrik responded, "and his path is yours to determine. But the time has come for the monster to pass from this world. This token will assist you."

Returning her attention to Elena, Carly asked, "How did Pam know about this?"

"No idea," Elena replied aloud. Silently, she answered, _She consulted a witch while she was in Minnesota. She told me she'd been retrieving things that belonged to Eric's family for some time, but the witch said that this should go to his valkyrie. When she learned that meant you, she put the search in place in earnest._

Carly hugged Elena and Marcus and said, "Thank you. How much do I owe you?"

"We've been paid," Marcus replied, "although I don't know by whom. My sweet Elena doesn't tell me these things."

_Keep silent, Carly, please. I have to remain hidden._

_Does Jean-Jacques know about you?  
_

_Of course. But no one else. _

Carly nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

When they were ready to depart, Carly decided that she couldn't handle fetching another taxi. As they walked through the door, Carly grasped hold of her mother's arm and teleported the two of them back to Edna's living room.

"My lord, Carly!" Edna nearly fell over. "How?"

"Mom, I just had to get us home." Carly sank into the sofa and raised her arm to inspect the bracelet that now encircled her wrist. Carly twisted it and realized that it wasn't coming off. "This last bit—it was just too much."

Steadying herself for a moment, Edna dropped her few shopping bags—most things were sent back to Shreveport by courier—and then went in to make them both a cup of tea.

_It's time for it to end._ As Carly contemplated Ulfrik's words, she realized that the ancient chieftain meant he wanted his son to be free of his vengeance. Carly understood that her destiny was to serve as the means toward Eric's revenge—she would eliminate the threat Russell Edgington posed to the world. And now, Ulfrik, from beyond the grave, revealed that he was truly the scion of a family of wolves. _What does that mean for Eric? _ Carly wondered. If Eric had the genes—or whatever they were—of a shapeshifter within his human body, now transformed to vampire—hardened by a thousand years of existence, then perhaps Eric did have the strength within him to eliminate Edgington. Eric only required a distraction.

"Mom," Carly winced as she stood, "I really need to get back to Eric. I had a great time."

They embraced and Edna said, "I did too, darling. I never thought you'd ever hold up under so much shopping. You have to tell Pam that she's welcome here any time. She seems like the perfect partner in crime." Edna giggled. "Just tell her to keep her fangs to herself."

"She'll take you up on it, mom." Carly smiled, "I like her. And she's got some amazing stories—they both do." Remembering the events that were likely to unfold tonight, Carly added, "Also, mom, keep CNN on tonight. There's going to be something important. And you might want to call your friends who support the Holocaust Museum too. I think they'll want to stay tuned."

After giving her mother a swift kiss on the cheek, before she could ask any questions, Carly returned to Eric's side. Collapsing beside him, Carly rested her arm across his broad chest, and drifted off to sleep.

When Eric awoke from his daytime slumber, the first thing that he saw was his grandfather's bracelet. Eric's grasp woke her from her own sleep, and she cringed slightly with pain. "Where did this come from, Carly?" Eric demanded.

"Your daughter bought it for me."

"What?" Eric's voice was sharp and angry.

"She's been collecting things that belonged to your family, according to the woman who gave it to me." Carly yawned. "But I saw your father in it, so I know it belonged to Uddulfr, your grandfather."

"Explain." Eric jumped from the bed, apparently ready for battle. "What did he tell you?"

"Not much, although I think I understand things better. Your grandfather's brothers were shape-shifters, and he refused to submit to their authority. I think that Russell's wolves were originally from your family, Eric."

As her viking deflated, despair taking hold of him, Carly grasped his hand. "I'm sorry, Eric. I know this is the worst thing you could learn."

"Not the worst." Eric shook his head and fell to his knees before her. "The worst thing would be if something happened to you."

After a kiss, Carly explained that Ulfrik said that the time for revenge had come, and that Carly planned to do whatever she could to help. "I think you might be stronger than even you realize, Eric."

"Only time will tell." Eric traced the patterns of the bracelet until finally staring into the garnet eyes. "You saw him?"

"Yes." Carly placed her hands on Eric's temples and concentrated, recollecting the image of Eric's father. The image took form, and Carly heard him speak to his son. "It is time for satisfaction, my beloved son, of whom I am so proud. You've been fostered well. Godric was a worthy maker. If I could have welcomed him as a blood brother, I would have."

Carly wiped away the bloody tears that streaked down Eric's cheeks, licking the blood from her fingers before she kissed away the last of the residue.

"We have to prepare ourselves," she said quietly. "Let's go back to Jean-Jacques."

With quiet capitulation, Eric dressed and prepared himself for the evening. Once he'd put on his gray silk suit, Carly returned them to Jean-Jacques's foyer.

Malcolm startled slightly when they appeared, but then gathered himself up quickly. "Yes, Mr. Northman and Ms. Michael. We were expecting you, but I didn't realize you'd find your own way here so quickly. Can I get you some refreshment?"

Carly realized that she felt painfully hungry. "I think that I need something to eat."

"Presently," Malcolm responded and then fled toward the kitchen, leaving Carly and Eric to find their own way to the king of New York's vampires.

Even after a luxurious snack in Jean-Jacques's study, Carly still felt gnawing hunger. "I need to call my aunt, Eric," Carly decided.

"If food doesn't satisfy you, lover, you know what else you can consume," Eric winked suggestively.

With a smile, Carly replied, "Blood isn't what I need. I think I need energy."

"So you wish Arianna to direct you?"

"I must be able to find it myself, but I don't quite know how." Carly dialed Arianna's number and found that her aunt answered promptly.

"My sweet niece, I expected your call. Are you feeling peckish?" Arianna's quiet titter echoed on the phone line.

"Yes, I'm hungry. You said something about how you hadn't eaten well. I'm guessing that I'm hungry for death energy, is that right?"

"Yes, but I don't eat properly simply because I'm lazy, my dear." Arianna laughed again. "I don't like to travel. I never have, so I tend to persist on what's nearby."

"How do I feed, then?" Carly felt her insides beginning to churn and hunger overtake her judgment.

"Submit to the hunger and follow it where it leads," Arianna explained blandly.

"Seriously?"

"Yes," Arianna's voice grew stricter. "You need to inhabit your hunger, focus on it, and imagine it leading you to food."

"Okay." Carly paused for a few moments before adding, "If it doesn't work, can I call you?"

"Of course, dear, at any moment, although I'm watching eagerly to see Himmler destroyed. Don't feed too long or deeply. You'll probably find yourself needed."

Carly explained what she planned to do to Eric and Jean-Jacques, who agreed that she should return as soon as she could. Retreating to a corner beside the fireplace, Carly concentrated her attention on the hunger and imagined what it would be like if she were hungry and could smell something appetizing, how she'd follow the smell to something delicious and satisfying. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a darkened room, beside a bed. Carly switched the night-table light on and saw a woman, about forty-five, stretched out in the bed, her body stiff with rigor mortis, her glazed eyes staring in fright up at the ceiling. Expecting to feel the rush of energy from the woman's death, Carly felt deeply disappointed by its absence. Then she reached out and touched the woman's forehead and everything –everything the woman was and knew, dreamt and feared, flowed into her body. Carly's hunger disappeared, replaced by a feeling of satisfaction that energized her.

"Thank you, Vicky," Carly said as she closed the woman's eyes. "Let me see what I can do for you." Vicky died because of an aneurysm, but she'd been depressed for a month prior. Carly knew that all of Vicky's friends and family would presume the worst and believe she'd killed herself. From inhabiting Vicky's memories, Carly knew that a doctor years before had identified the aneurysm and told Vicky that it was inoperable, but low risk, so Carly fished the records of that visit out and placed them next to a notepad, where she wrote—in Vicky's handwriting- "Aneurysm and depression? Make an appointment with neurologist who does psychiatry." Then Carly found a bottle of Excedrin and left it by Vicky's bedside. With that combination of clues, Vicky's family should only have to grieve for her death, not for a betrayal that didn't happen.

Concentrating on Eric, Carly transported herself back to Jean-Jacques's home, where Carly discovered Arianna had joined their "viewing party."

Arianna smiled and said, "You returned quickly. Can I answer any questions, my dear?"

"She'd only been dead a few hours. Why did I go to a woman who'd died so recently?" Carly had grown so accustomed to remnants of death that inhabited spaces or clung to grieving families that she'd never expected anything else.

With a mischievous smirk, Arianna answered, "Because I live here, Carly. Although I'm lazy and no glutton, I try to keep the city as free from lingering energy, as full of life, as I can. Also, when you transport yourself to an energy source, you will go to the nearest accessible. You'll be cloaked from view if humans are there, but we tend to avoid sites where we'll be seen."

"So she was the closest death?"

"Most likely."

"I'm happy that you returned so quickly, my dear," Jean-Jacques interrupted, "because Soraya says that they will broadcast Himmler's confession shortly. We animate the 'idiot box,' you call it, yes?"

Jean-Jacques summoned a large television from a handsome wooden console against his study wall and tuned to the news network. The CNN anchor of the moment exuded gravitas and explained that the regularly scheduled programming had been preempted.

"You may recall our recent special on the remaining survivors of the Holocaust. As the years pass, fewer survivors keep those memories alive. Even fewer of those responsible for the horrors of World War Two remain. Tonight, our own Soraya Shahzad has an interview that will turn all of this on its head. Tonight, she interviews a man long believed dead who helped to orchestrate genocide. We turn now to Soraya."

Jean-Jacques clapped his hands together. "I believe you'll find her impressive."

The camera focused on Soraya Shahzad, a beautiful, yet severe young woman, whose eyes reflected the inexhaustible curiosity within her.

"On May 23, 1945, British soldiers believed that they witnessed Heinrich Himmler's death. But that was not his final death. In fact, Heinrich Himmler staged his poisoning. A vampire drained him and then he was resurrected as a vampire himself. For the last sixty years, he has lived this way. Yesterday, it became too much for him, and he sought an opportunity to confess to his crimes and to submit himself to human justice. Tonight, we hear, in his own words, what he believes he deserves. I present to CNN viewers Heinrich Himmler, who has lived as Henry Welkin in Mississippi and Louisiana, until last night. Mr. Himmler, why did you come forward?"

The camera panned to Himmler, who looked dejected, despairing, pale.

"Miss Shahzad, thank you for taking the time to speak to me. I am grateful for the opportunity." Himmler nodded to the reporter and then continued to speak. "During my human life, I believed that I was destined for power, and I believed that supernatural forces guaranteed my ascent. In the early days of the war, a vampire revealed himself to me and gave me access to soldiers of great strength."

"What kind of soldiers?" Soraya asked.

Himmler shook his head and answered, "Tonight, my confessions are my own. I cannot reveal more than I ought. Let us leave it with this: as many people know, I believed in eugenics—the notion that the human race could be enhanced through selective breeding. Since I believed my SS officers were the best of the Aryan race, I supported efforts to breed them with appropriate women. Through that process, I encountered this vampire, and he offered to assist me."

"He was breeding people too?"

"In a way," Himmler demurred, "but that is not my purpose in speaking tonight."

"What is your purpose, Mr. Himmler?"

Himmler looked down, and the camera followed his eyes as they squinted. "I have done horrible things, and I have continued to do horrible things as a vampire. Nonetheless, recent events have shown me that is untenable. That I must submit myself for my punishment—that what I have done is so grievous, so unforgivable, that I must do penance."

"Why do you believe that?" Soraya's face betrayed an unexpected sympathy as she looked at the war criminal and vampire.

"Once, I believed in divine law, in the inevitable success of the strong. Now, I no longer believe that to be true. Unfortunately, I no longer believe in an afterlife. Thus, my death would fail to expiate the sins I have committed."

"So what are you asking?"

"I am asking," Himmler began to weep, "to confess all that I have done, to undo as much as I may still undo, and to suffer as greatly as human conscience can make me."

"Wow," Carly whispered as she sat before the television, watching the Nazi break down. "I wasn't expecting anything like that."

"Did you have any idea of what he would do?" Eric asked.

"No," Carly shook her head, "not really. I just showed him all that the valkyries had seen."

"Do you remember what you showed him?" Jean-Jacques asked.

"No," Carly shivered. "It was there for a moment—sheer horror, pain, shock, distress, but then it was gone."

"So that lingers with him?" Jean-Jacques crossed himself. "He suffers now. The pain will simply distract him from what he already feels."

A few minutes of silent reverie was interrupted by a ringing phone.

"The southern king must be watching the television," Jean-Jacques said cynically as he lifted the reciever. "Bon soir."

The sound of Russell's screams poured forth from the other side of the phone, incoherent and indecipherable.

Jean-Jacques allowed Edgington to rant until words failed him. Eric looked at his watch when the tirade began and noted the ten minutes that passed until Mississippi's vampire king was finished.

"I hope you feel better, Russell. I would be distressed as well, if I knew my child had laid his sufferings before the world," Jean-Jacques commiserated. "But there is little we can now do."

"The hell it is!" Russell screamed. "You will send your people down and either pull him out or stake him!"

"Why would I do such a thing, bon cher?" Jean-Jacques asked. "You have to admit, your man has more blood on his hands than all of us together. And his complicity in all those deaths was as a human, not a vampire. Shouldn't we leave him to human judgment? If you'd allowed him to die a human death, in punishment for his crimes, perhaps I would not judge so harshly."

"That's bullshit and you know it, Bishop!" The sound of Russell's grinding teeth echoed through the phone. "He's my child, and I'll be damned if I see him turned over to humans. He's mine!"

"As you say, Russell, but I fear that I have no reason to interfere, even with your persuasive entreaties." Jean-Jacques began to spin his wrist as if he were suggesting a long-winded speaker to wrap up.

"I demand access to New York City!"

"No, I fear that would not be in the best interests of my community, Russell. I respectfully deny your request."

"Don't play with me, Jean-Jacques! You know that I'm a thousand years older than you. If I were to come into New York, I would rip you apart."

"Perhaps, my old friend. But it would take you a great deal of time to get to me. And in the interim, you would face numerous obstacles, many of them deadly."

"Then I'll crash that little vampire art show you all have going," Russell threatened. "I'll come alongside Talbot, and we'll slaughter everyone in sight."

Eric stiffened when he heard Russell.

"How would you like that, Jean-Jacques?" Russell spit and grimaced. "I'll come in and rip the throats of every vampire and fuck every human before I tear their heads off and suck them dry."

"Such language for such an elder, Russell! It's really quite beneath you, don't you think?" Jean-Jacques's criticism sounded like an old school-teacher's shaming. "I'm disappointed that you must be so crass."

"You can put up all the security you want, Bishop, but when that show opens tomorrow, it will be a blood bath!" Russell slammed the phone down.

"I suppose he has a plan now," Eric said without affect. "So, do we have a plan?"

Jean-Jacques straightened himself in his seat and sighed. "Russell can fly, so I would guess he's on his way now. How fast can you fly, Eric?"

"It might take me six or seven hours?" Eric concentrated. "If we want to be safe, we should plan that he'd be on the ground before dawn. I don't know much about Talbot. If Russell has to carry him, that might slow him down a little."

Carly considered their situation, contemplating how she could contribute to the offensive against Russell Edgington. At this point, they had to launch an offensive to save innumerable lives. From what she knew about Edgington, she believed he would follow through on all of his threats. As they'd listened to Edgington fume, they'd caught bits and pieces of Himmler's confession. He'd named Edgington as his maker and confessed to all his post-transformation kills—a huge number. Eric even groaned at how numerable they were. Now revealed to public scrutiny, Edgington wouldn't hesitate to behave as badly as he wished.

Jean-Jacques spent the rest of the evening on the phone—on personal calls and conference calls, so Carly and Eric retreated into a secluded garden to talk.

As they held hands, they talked about their options.

"Do you think you could track him?" Eric asked quietly.

Carly shrugged. "I don't know. I found him when we executed Christophe, but he and Talbot were in their home. I don't know what I could do now."

"I think we should experiment," Eric said seriously.

"What?"

Eric turned to face Carly and looked at her intently. "We know that you can transport people that you know, and we know that you can transport people that you find."

"Yes?"

"But those people have been stationary, right?"

"Yes. I fetched the wolves from Jackson, but I didn't really know where they were. I just knew what they looked like," Carly recalled her experience.

"And you brought me from your house," Eric reminded her.

"So, you want me to grab Russell?"

"Yes and no," Eric answered cryptically.

"One or the other would be good."

Eric huffed, "If there were some way that you could transport Russell directly to me, I could stake him."

"If I could send him where I wanted him to go, I might as well just send him straight into the sun," Carly answered.

With a gleam in his eye, Eric straightened to his full height. "That's brilliant, Carly."

"What?"

"You could send him into the sunrise."

"But he would tear me apart, wouldn't he?"

Eric let go of her and began to pace. "If I were there as well, then I could hold him."

"Wouldn't you burn, just like he did?"

With a smirk, Eric replied, "Perhaps not if I had a mouthful of fairy blood."

Flashes of light shot all around them, and they watched as crystals rose from the garden floor. Niall and the woman who materialized in Godric's study manifested before them. Cynically, Niall said, "It took you long enough to figure it out, vampire."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

AN: I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's been a struggle for me, because I thought it would be the last, but the story seems to demand at least one more chapter. As usual, Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball own all rights to the characters drawn from Sookie Stackhouse Mysteries and True Blood.

"What are you doing here?" Carly asked angrily, still recalling her last encounter with Niall Brigant. "I thought you all were busy making babies now."

With a lascivious smirk, Niall answered, "Oh we are, Carly. I'm so grateful to you," he winked, and Eric leaned to cover Carly, "that I have brought a peace offering of sorts." Brigant patted his companion on the shoulder.

Eric growled, "Have you been spying on us?"

Brigant inspected the nails of his right hand while grasping firmly to the young fairy woman with his left. "I've merely kept track of your needs, vampire. And now, to rid our universe of this devil, you need my help." Niall smiled and said, "And I thought I owed an apology for my ungentlemanly behavior toward you," he indicated Carly, "my dear."

As Carly took in the scene, she answered cynically, "She's the peace offering? You're going to feed this girl to my vampire, and that's supposed to be your peace offering toward me? That sounds a lot like you want to piss off a valkyrie even more." A quick vision of Eric feeding from and grinding against the young woman made rage bubble up through Carly's body.

Eric sensed the change in her mood and grasped hold of her hand, which had retracted into a fist.

"I think you're over-reacting, Carly," Niall replied. "I simply brought an answer to Mr. Northman's query."

"Perhaps we should hear him out, Carly," Eric suggested, stroking her arm before whispering to her, "You need not worry about temptation. Remember, they do not incite any reaction in me any longer."

"Fine," Carly crossed her arms. "I can't help it, Eric, I just don't trust him."

Niall dropped his head in imitation of shame. "I will make it up to you, my dear, I promise. You will find me a staunch advocate and a reliable ally." Niall redirected their attention to the young girl. "If you are to defeat Edgington, vampire, you must have an advantage over him. Moreover, Carly, you need some guidance for such a complex transportation."

"Explain, please," Carly demanded.

"It's simple, really. You have no direct connection to Edgington, but you could find your vampire, I believe, nearly anywhere." Niall extended his arm toward Eric. "If I were to shadow Edgington, carrying the vampire with me, you could grasp them both and send yourself into the sunlight. Do you know a European location that would be suitable?"

Carly scanned her memory and decided immediately that there was only one appropriate place for Edgington to die. "Sweden. I would take him to Sweden."

"Sunrise this time of year would be about 7AM," Eric added contemplatively. "But we would only have a brief window of direct sun—the sun sets before four. Are you sure that's where you wish to take him, Carly? A southern latitude would be better."

"But," Carly looked at her lover with determination, "he deserves to die where he destroyed your family."

"He's destroyed many families, Carly." Eric embraced her. "His death will be satisfaction enough."

"I agree with the vampire, Carly. Do you have any more southerly places you could visualize?"

Scouring her memory, the only southern latitudes she'd visited were in the southwest United States, which wouldn't help them in their current quest. "Only from photographs."

"A strong visual impression is all you truly need, although I would suggest you select a remote location." Niall explained, "Eric will drink from my grand-daughter, Keira, which will render him immune from the sun for about four hours. I anticipate that you will need to recharge, so somewhere you may encounter death energy would be best. Once Edgington is destroyed, I will find you and assist in your return."

"Okay," Carly answered before she turned her attention to Keira. "Are you willing to do this, Keira?"

"Yes," she answered quietly. "You've renewed my hope, Carly. I've lived five hundred years without a child, even a human one. Now I can commit myself to another and raise a family. One pint of blood is a small price to pay for happiness and fulfillment."

"What about Edgington's consort?" Eric asked. "As I understand it, Talbot is not to be underestimated. We must destroy him as well."

Niall nodded. "Indeed. When Edgington left Jackson, Talbot was on his back. The king appears in a blinding rage, so I thought we might catch him off guard."

Eric jammed his hands into his pockets as he did while thinking seriously. "You think I could stake Talbot and then grasp hold of Edgington?" Eric was clearly strategizing. "Will I be immune to silver as well?"

"No," Niall answered. "but Keira's blood will strengthen you substantially."

"And what would your blood do, Prince Brigant?" Eric asked.

Keira looked to her grandfather expectantly. Carly tried to access the fairies' thoughts, but found herself unable to move beyond their barriers.

"You would be nearly invincible," Niall answered after a pause. "My blood has not been offered, however."

The two men stared at each other and Eric replied, "Consider it requested, Prince. If I were strong enough to dispose of both Edgington and Talbot, I would not have to risk Carly."

"There are no risks to Carly," Niall scoffed. "Only another of her kind my kill her now. You know that, vampire."

"She is not yet strong enough, or knowledgeable of her own abilities, to avoid suffering at Edgington's hands if he were to kill me and capture her. And I will not allow that to happen." Eric straightened to his full height and moved toward Brigant. "It sounds as if the most prudent course would be for you to offer your blood to me. I will not do violence to you, Prince. You could drain your blood into a vessel and remain untouched."

Niall sighed and directed Keira, "Fetch a silver cup. I'll at least have the satisfaction of smelling your lips burn, vampire."

When Keira disappeared, Carly's breath caught in her chest, and her anxiety rose. She would not allow Niall to hurt Eric under any circumstances, ever.

The young fairy returned with a silver cup, and Niall drew the same dagger from his side that he had during the initiation ceremony. Slicing open his forearm, Niall collected his blood in the silver chalice and extended it to Eric.

Carly intercepted the vessel. "You said nothing of burning his hands, Niall."

"Indeed." Niall grudgingly released the cup.

Mindful that there might be a price for the blood, Carly asked, "Is the smell of Eric's burning flesh the cost of your blood?"

"No," the fairy laughed, "just consolation. I give it willingly and without condition."

Carly nodded and told Eric, "Kneel, lover, and I'll pour it in your mouth."

Eric kissed his valkyrie and said, "Thank you, lover."

"You will deny me satisfaction?" Niall groused.

"Why would I allow you to harm the man I will spend eternity with?" Carly poured the scarlet blood down Eric's throat and watched as it caught the light. As the vampire swallowed, he acquired an aura of power that Carly and Keira could feel. The young fairy moved away from the vampire, and Niall crossed his arms to express his displeasure that Carly circumvented his cruelty.

After scraping the last of the ancient fairy's blood out of the chalice with her finger, Carly returned the chalice to Niall. Eric licked the blood away and then nipped at Carly's fingers playfully.

Eric stood, stretched, and said, "I don't even know if your supervision is necessary, Niall." Picking up Carly with one arm, Eric kissed her deeply and passionately, and visions of Russell Edgington poured into her mind. When her lover finally released her, Carly felt as if she could locate Edgington and move the two of them to intercept him with a snap of her fingers.

"You're confident your valkyrie is strong enough, vampire?"

"Yes—she even outsmarted the Prince of the Fae." Eric laughed at Niall's expense, as he held Carly against his hip.

"Then I will leave you to find your own way. I'm not particularly well-disposed toward the two of you right now, so if you burn, vampire, I don't particularly care." With a final huff, Niall took Keira's hand and disappeared.

Eric embraced Carly again and said, "You are magnificent, Carly." With a kiss to her forehead, Eric asked, "Are you ready for retribution?"

Carly kissed his neck and said, "I think so, but I need to know how you plan to do it."

"I'll rip Talbot's head from his body and then grasp hold of Edgington."

"So you still want him to die in the sun?"

Eric smiled down at her. "Yes, I want him stripped bare before the sun, so I can watch him burn."

"Then turn around so I can get on your back," Carly directed.

"That's the wrong side, my dear. Everything good is on the front," he played, before keeling so that she could wrap herself around him.

Nipping at his ear, Carly said, "Such a sex fiend, even at times like these."

"Always."

"You should probably start flying so that you're ready when we rematerialize."

Eric rose to hover a few feet off the ground, and Carly felt the pull toward Edgington that Eric's memories and hatred engendered in her. She felt herself become a vapor that enveloped Eric and bent the space between them and Edgington.

In an imperceptible smoke, she and Eric circled Edgington and Talbot, and found Edgington in just the state Niall predicted. He railed against Jean-Jacques, planning to slaughter him and his court first, before all others. "And then I'll drain that whore reporter," he screamed, "and every other human in those studios. I'll show the Authority what vampires were truly meant to be before they decided to cut our balls off and hand them to the fucking humans!"

Carly focused her attention on Talbot's neck so that they could shadow Edgington for a few more minutes. As the diffused valkyrie and her vampire coalesced behind the two distracted vampires, Carly concentrated her attention fully, insuring that she was as present in that moment as possible, and that Eric, empowered by royal fairy blood, could reach his full strength.

As they solidified, Eric took control, flying at the same speed as Edgington, only inches behind Talbot. Eric wrapped his hand around Talbot's neck and pulled it off. The remaining three were traveling so fast, Talbot's gore didn't even stick to Eric—the wind pulled it away into nothingness.

At the instant Talbot's existence ended, Edgington paused, and Eric crashed into him, grasping him with every limb. Carly envisioned the Anzac Cove on the Gallipoli Peninsula, which she knew would be nearly deserted. The Turkish sands would be baking at high noon.

Animated by her recollection of a painting that recorded the carnage of World War I, as Ottoman forces battered Australian and New Zealand soldiers, outnumbered two to one, Carly slipped from Kentucky, where she and Eric intercepted Edgington, to Turkey, and the lovers and their captive materialized on the dry, scrub-covered hills overlooking the startlingly blue Aegean Sea.

Once solid, Eric ripped Edgington's clothes from him in one swift motion, cast him twenty feet before him, and screamed, "Do you remember me, monster?"

"Northman, why the hell are you doing this?" Edgington hissed as flames danced across his bubbling skin.

"Revenge!" Eric stalked toward the elder vampire.

"You've got yourself a fairy, viking," Edgington hissed. "Perhaps this pretty thing."

In a flash, Russell rushed across the sand and grabbed Carly.

"I'll have a little taste of the fairy, before we continue our conversation."

Carly heard Russell's fangs fall into place while boils hissed and spit on his skin. Reflexively, Carly raised her arm to block him, and Russell embedded his teeth in her bracelet's metalwork. Carly ripped her arm away, taking Russell's teeth with her.

Russell, now fangless and bleeding, shrank into a fetal position, while his skin began to flake away in ash.

Eric kicked Russell away from Carly and screamed at him. "Nothing will save you—not a fairy, not anything."

"Are you going to explain yourself, Northman? Or am I going to die without knowing why?" Russell sputtered blood as he demanded the information.

"My real name is Erik Ulfriksson." Eric stood at full height, and the glow from Niall's blood returned "You and your damned wolves slaughtered my whole family a thousand years ago. My father Ulfrik Uddulfsson was king, and you killed him without provocation!"

Edgington struggled to stand and for enough breath to speak. "You blame me," he gasped and croaked. "It was a family spat. And you kill me when your own blood was responsible?"

"Your complicity deserves revenge," Eric screamed at him. "And you have outlived all those wolves who killed their kin. They broke my sister's neck," Eric began to cry, "and crushed my father's limbs, and drank my mother's blood."

Flames raged across Russell's body, and Carly could hear the sputtering and bursting of his eyes as they boiled. Finally, the king of Mississippi-the three thousand year old terror-collapsed and burned up like an old log. Once Edgington turned to dust, Eric fell to his knees. Carly ran to him and gathered him to her.

"It's over..." Eric grabbed Carly's arm and plucked Russell's fangs from the bracelet before it unclasped itself and fell into his hand. "Grandfather's bracelet served us well." Eric reclasped it to Carly's arm. Looking down at Russell's fangs, Eric wondered, "I find it curious they didn't disintegrate?"

"Perhaps we need them for something else."

"Perhaps." With bloody eyes, Eric looked to his valkyrie and said, "He's dead. Is my family at peace?"

"Yes, if you are."

Their noses and cheeks rubbed together, and the two took comfort in one another. Carly felt vibrations of death, the smell of gunpowder, and the echoes of screams. "So many died here, Eric."

"Do you want to go home?" Eric took Carly's weight as she crumpled into his arms.

"No, not until I've taken all I can." Carly saw explosions reflected in Eric's blue eyes, and shivered with the concussion of shells, and with the energy of each individual soldier that entered her. After gathering up what remained from the 10,000 men who died there, she said, "You should pay your respects at home. And enjoy the sun with me for a little while."

Eric set her gently on the sand and walked over to the ashes that remained of Russell Edgington and kicked through them. He found four gold rings, a watch, and a pendant that he retrieved and shoved in his pockets.

Raising her into an embrace, Eric kissed her and whispered, "You have brought this to an end. Now I can truly move forward...with you at my side."

Carly leaned into him, and the two evaporated, and then condensed before the site of Eric's family hall in Sweden.

Eric stumbled when he regained his form, disoriented, until he recognized the position of the sun on the horizon and the upland that crested above the hall.

Walking solemnly, Eric took the jewelry and Russell's fangs out of his pocket and led Carly toward the hall site. He and Carly knelt before where the high seat would have been and placed the trophies on the plastic-covered ground.

As Eric reenacted the warrior's return from battle, Carly stayed as focused as she could on their present moment. She knew that she was one stray thought away from crossing dimensional boundaries, drawing ancient times toward her, bending the universe into forbidden and dangerous shapes. Eric's graceful movements, the curve of his shoulder as he showed his filial piety, kept her anchored to him and to their own time.

A voice whispered to her. _Valkyrie, you have done well for him._

Eric grasped the bracelet and they both heard, _It is over. The debt is paid. You are free, children._

"Thank you, grandfather." Eric's voice cracked as he spoke.

Carly looked up at her lover's plaintive face and asked, "You recognize his voice?"

"No, I never met him." Eric shook his head. "I just know." With Carly's hand in his own, he traced the cloisonne dragon that curved back on itself and wound its way around a wolf. "My father died because he refused the _vargr_. But my grandfather had not. He must have been a wolf."

The voice returned. _Yes, grandson, but fratricide destroyed my memory. Your uncle truly was an outlaw, who aligned himself with a great evil, rather than recognize his brother as king._

Eric hung his head low again and said, "I am honored grandfather that you speak to us."

_The valkyrie allows me to speak to you. _The voice paused for a moment. _She bridges the gap between fairy and valkyrie; you will bridge the divide between wolf and vampire. With Edgington gone, wild wolves will need to be tamed. It will fall to you and your maker to bring them to heel. Take your trophies with you._

A cold wind blew across the heath, and Eric's grandfather's voice dispersed with the breeze.

"As if vampire weren't enough..." Eric's voice sounded far away, as he picked up the teeth and jewelry again. "I want to watch the sunrise. Can we return? I'd like to watch your sunrise—the one you grew up with."

With a faint, tired smile, Carly said, "You know that means New Jersey, right?"

"It's the Garden State. That sounds like a lovely place to watch the sun come up."

Carly embraced her beloved vampire and thought of the farm where she grew up—the late fall trees, the pumpkin patch her mother kept for the fall fair for children with autism, her dogs. And she was there, with Eric alongside her.

"I don't think I'll grow accustomed to that, Carly," Eric commented unsteadily.

"Strange, because it seems to be getting easier for me. I didn't even feel anything this time." Carly looked toward the eastern horizon, which was blocked from view by thick woods and the rolling hills of the Hopewell Valley.

"Do you have a favorite spot?" Eric asked.

Recalling her childhood, Carly thought of the comfort the farm had offered her—the work, the animals, her friends—who couldn't speak but didn't judge her. "There's an apple tree by the barn. Let's sit there together. I don't know how long you'll have in the sun."

After walking slowly toward the barn, Carly popped inside and swiped a horse blanket, so they didn't have to lay on bare ground.

Once they spread it out, Eric and Carly reclined together, staring up at the stars as they grew faint in the pre-dawn glow. "Do you remember your last sunrise?"

"Yes, because we went straight to battle and fought all day. It's the one day of my human life I've always recollected with perfect clarity." Eric caressed her throat and before kissing her. "I'm looking forward to this sunrise much more."

Carly kissed him in return. "Why?"

In a throaty whisper, Eric replied, "Because I will will be inside you as I watch it rise."

Slowly, the two caressed and kissed, tasting each other. Carly licked away the salt from the sea-spray, and felt the warm of the Turkish sun on Eric's skin. Lifting her clothes from her body to give him greater access, Carly stripped so she could feel Eric's hands everywhere. Eric reciprocated, pushing his clothes off as he sought purchase over her.

Eric palmed Carly's breasts in his hands, kneading them like bread before sucking the nipples into his mouth and nipping at them. He flipped her over so that they both faced the eastern horizon. Kneeling behind her, Eric guided her onto his rigid cock and began to pump into her. As the birds welcomed the dawn, Eric nibbled at her neck, somehow suspended over her, so that he could massage her belly and her breasts, seemingly weightless.

As the sun crested over the hills, Eric reached down to just in front of her entrance, grasping and pulling until Carly felt orgasm overtake her.

The sun in his eyes, Eric bit into Carly's throat, drawing a mouthful of blood with every thrust. He pressed his wrist to her mouth, and Carly responded in kind, breaking the skin and drawing in his blood, still burning brightly with Niall's power.

Eric dove under her and rose off the ground, his mouth biting and sucking at her neck until finding his way to her lips. Still within her, Eric floated upwards, until their bodies tangled with the tree limbs, knocking ripe and fragrant apples to the ground.

Carly pushed away from Eric far enough to look into his eyes, transformed from blue into a luminescent violet, surging with energy that harmonized with his movements in and out of her.

As they crested together again, the light diffused, and his eyes returned to the oceanic blue that Carly loved so much.

"Please don't change," she whispered. "You're everything to me, Eric."

They slowly descended to the ground, and she spread out over him. "I won't change, just improve. I'm like wine, Carly, I only grow better with age."

They laughed briefly and then slept, warmed by the sunshine, surrounded by apples and birdsong.

Carly felt herself rocking in a small boat and sat up carefully. Finding herself again in a coracle on a slow moving river, Carly looked over to the high grasses along river bank that in one dream had concealed werewolves.

"Are any of you there?" Carly yelled. "I'm not really in the mood for prophetic dreams."

Met only with the lapping of the water along the bottom of the coracle, Carly lay back down and tried to return to sleep. "I don't know why I can't just rest."

Carly heard a sharp laugh and rose quickly, but couldn't see the source.

"Who's there?"

"Valkyries do not sleep."

Carly tried to stand, but feared she'd fall out of the boat. "Come on, show yourself!"

Despite her demands, the source of the voice remained concealed. Seeing a bank ahead, Carly tried to steer the coracle toward it, with little success. "Fuck it," she cursed and overturned the boat, swimming the rest of the way. "You better be on this side of the river, damn it, or I'll be really angry."

"Anger suits a valkyrie," the voice said playfully, receding off into the distance before her.

Following a quiet humming, Carly set off, trying to catch up. First she walked, cutting her bare feet on the sharp grasses until she found a path, and then broke into a run. After about a quarter of a mile, she emerged into a circle, an old fire pit in the center.

"This is ridiculous!" Carly stomped her foot and then regretted it immediately when pain shot through her. "Damn it!" She sat down beside the rocks, charcoal, and ashes and concentrated on raising a flame from her fingertips. When the heat danced across her palm, she touched the charcoal and returned the fire to life. "Cold and damp in my dream. Great."

Carly heard the rustle of grass as a hooded figure moved into the circle. "For a moment, but you'll dry soon enough, valkyrie."

The gray hood concealed the stranger's face, and the cloak concealed the form, and the voice betrayed nothing of the person's gender or age.

"Who are you?" Carly asked dismissively. "I really am not in the mood for games."

With another laugh, the stranger replied, "But games are all we have, valkyrie."

"I have a name—Carly. What's yours?"

"Very good, Carly. I have many names, but all forgotten."

Crossing her arms protectively, Carly replied, "Even you've forgotten them?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But names are less important than the spirits who wield them."

Frustrated, Carly sat silently, refusing to continue in the verbal back and forth. Instead, she focused on the stranger, taking in all she could, the texture of the cloth—which had a European weave, clearly wool that was nearly felted—and the size of the hands. She could only see fingertips, but she extrapolated the fingers' lengths from the width and length of the fingernails. She still couldn't settle on gender for certain, but decided that she was probably speaking to an man.

"So if a man approached you and told you he'd forgotten his name, what would you ask?"

"Perhaps I would ask if he had always been a man." The stranger laughed again.

"Have you always been a man?"

"No, but I have never been a woman."

Carly groaned, realizing she'd fallen for the bait. "So have you always had human form?"

"Now," he hit his knee in appreciation, "you have learned how the game is played, Carly!"

"Are you going to answer the question?" Carly stood so she could grab some dry rushes to add to the fire.

"If it were a better question, I would answer."

As the fire rose, Carly concentrated again on his form and remembered the last time she'd found herself in an environment like this one. "Do you take the form of a wolf?"

"An excellent question." His hood retracted and revealed huge teeth with long canines on both top and bottom. "Indeed, among other forms."

"What about a bear?"

"As I recall, there were intermediate forms between them..." the stranger drifted off into silence.

With a huff, Carly demanded, "Okay, I've learned a few things about these dreams since they started. I never learn anything I don't need to know, and I never encounter anyone that I haven't already met through some means."

"Oh, how clever you are," the stranger turned toward her, and his hood slipped back to reveal his long, pointed nose.

"The only thing or person new in my life is this bracelet," she shook her wrist "so you have to be attached to it, so attached to Eric's grandfather somehow."

"Indeed, go on," the stranger baited. "I am impressed, young valkyrie."

"You have some kind of claim to him, but not to me," she concluded.

"Do not be too hasty."

Carly rose onto her tiptoes and yelled, "No one commands the valkyries. We maintain the balance between the worlds, so no one has a claim to me."

"And you believe this has always been so?"

"Yes." Her confidence faltered for a moment, and then she added, "except in myth."

"And myths are powerful things."

Carly walked around the circle, taking in the figure from all sides. "So you're telling me you're some kind of god figure? You think you're Odin?"

"Many names have been forgotten, or conflated, or misremembered." He began to laugh again.

"And what do you want with me, or with Eric?"

"I have nothing that I want particularly, except to watch the game be played."

"We are no one's chess pieces!" Carly reached for the back of the stranger's hood, but he escaped her grasp.

"No, no, no, valkyrie." He shook his finger at her. "Do not look on a face you do not wish to see."

"Tell me what you want to know!"

He shook his cloak sleeves back and rubbed his wrists. "The token you have. It's assisted you already, yes?"

She nodded. "We have his fangs."

"Ah, yes."

"And?"

"The token works blood magic. All who have tasted the vampire's blood will kneel before you and do your bidding, even to destroy themselves."

"So we can control the wolves?"

The figure laughed again. "Among others. You will be surprised, I am sure."

Carly felt the outlines of the zoomorphic figures. "And what about the dragon?"

"Oh, you should ask your vampire what the dragon means and what a dragon fears." The stranger's cloak sleeves exposed his forearms—a dragon wrapped around his right arm and wolves and bears pursued each other on the the left.

"And what's your relationship to the mystery?" Carly demanded as she felt the edges of the dream fade.

"I have none. I am not beholden to them, but lord of my own realm—its architect and its destroyer. I exist only to entertain myself."

"And us?" Carly pulled at the bracelet, which seemed firmly reattached to her wrist. "Are we just your entertainment?"

"Today? Yes."

Carly awoke on top of Eric and pushed herself up to sitting. "Your gods were assholes."

He stirred slightly at the sound of her voice, but needed a push to awaken entirely. He stretched and groaned before reaching up for her breasts. "Hmm...another sunrise."

Carly slapped his hands away.

"What did I do?" Eric pouted.

"You worshiped assholes, that's what you did." Carly retrieved her clothes and dressed. "I think I met Odin-or Loki-I don't know, but he was a jerk."

"What?"

"I had a dream of this guy in a gray cloak, and he said we could work blood magic with the bracelet," she shook it violently to emphasize. "And then we could control everyone who had Russell's blood in them."

"That's amazing, Carly."

She shook her head. "Of course, he only told me that after leading me on a wild goose chase and playing games."

"You should be honored." Eric's voice became strident. "In the ancient legends, the gods rarely intercede for men."

"Well, you can be honored, but I can still be pissed." Carly tossed Eric's pants to him. "Let's get you out of the sun before you cook."

He stood up and stepped forward into the direct sun and let it wash over his body. "The warmth feels amazing, Carly. Now I know why Sophie Ann and Russell sought the fairies." Eric turned and drew her into the light with him. "Let me look at you." Leaning down to catch her eye, he said, "Please smile at me. I want to see you in the sun. This may be our only chance to look at each other this way. I don't want to waste it."

One look at his eager, pleading eyes, made Carly's anger evaporate. He was right. They'd only have one chance to enjoy this time together, and they shouldn't waste it on her disapproval of ancient trickster gods or spirits, or whatever they were. They should just be, together.

"You know you really need to put on some clothes, 'cause we're going to get caught." She laughed as he pulled at her shirt.

"Then we both ought to get caught naked. Who will protest if the mistress of the manor wants to cavort in the sun."

Carly slapped at his hands again. "Stop it, sex fiend, and put on your pants. I want you to meet my animals, and they won't like it if you're waving your junk around at them."

"Finally meeting my competition for your affection, yes?" Before releasing his hold on her, Eric gave her another kiss. "I'll capitulate and wear pants, but I refuse to put on my shirt or my shoes."

"Fine!" Carly retreated far enough to enjoy the sight of Eric slipping back into his pants, but a small moan of longing escaped her as he buttoned them over his crotch.

"I would happily oblige you with more, lover. You're the cruel one, demanding that I dress."

"Put your pants on, vampire!" Carly ran toward the front of the house. "I have to let Arnie and his wife know we're here, or she'll call the police." As Carly bounded toward the front, she realized that she should probably keep Eric's presence concealed, since Arnie and Marie knew she was involved with a vampire. "Wait!"

"What?"

"We can't let them know you're here. It's daytime."

"We'll just glamour them to forget." Eric shrugged. "What's the problem?"

"They're family, Eric. I can't just manipulate their memories."

"Even if not doing so posed a risk to your safety or mine?"

"Let me think about it."

When they reached the front garden, Carly nearly stepped on Arnie, as the middle aged man mulched a flower bed.

"Carly! When did you get here?"

"Hi, Arnie, I'm sorry. I got here early this morning. I was just out by the barn." _Eric stay back, _Carly thought desperately, but Eric stepped forward, with his shirt back on, nonetheless.

"Oh, hello," Arnie added when he saw Eric. "You brought a friend. Nice to meet you." Arnie stood, took off his work glove, and extended his hand, "Arnie Oppelheimer."

Eric reciprocated, "Ed Pole. Pleasure to meet you. Carly wanted me to see the house. I hope you don't mind us just dropping by."

"No problem." Arnie smiled at Carly and then stole a glance at Eric. "Your mom said you'd be up this way with that vampire of yours."

"Yes," Carly answered before Eric cut her off.

"I'm her bodyguard during the day. Mr. Northman doesn't want her going about unattended." Eric smiled and then looked around meaningfully, as if surveying the terrain for potential threats.

"Oh, wow. It's nice to meet you," Arnie replied. "You need a sweater, Mr. Pole. You're like ice. You want to come in and have some coffee?"

"No, that's okay, Arnie. We had breakfast already. I'm going to show him around, and then we'll be on our way." Carly smiled sweetly.

"Okay," Arnie stooped to return to his work. "It was good to see you Carly."

As Eric and Carly walked toward the front of the property, Arnie called out for them. "Hey, Carly." He rose and jogged to catch up with them. "Is you needing a bodyguard related to that stuff on TV last night?"

"Um," Carly paused trying to gather her thoughts. "I don't know, Arnie. Eric and I were out last night, so I didn't watch TV. Then Ed and I drove down here."

Arnie took off both gloves and shoved them in a back pocket. "Well, you gotta pick up a paper, Carly, because it's something. Heinrich Himmler came forward, and he's been a vampire ever since to the war!"

"No kidding!" Carly tried to express sufficient disbelief.

Eric added, "That's really a surprise. I would have thought Mr. Northman knew every vampire in America."

"Well, that's not everything. His interview went on for hours and right in the middle, he grabbed his chest and started shaking, saying, 'He's dead, he's dead!' In German, no less. Can you believe that?"

Carly tried to remain as poker faced as possible, but couldn't manage to restrain her surprise. "Who was he talking about?"

"That was the thing, Carly, he just said 'his master' was dead." Arnie put his gloves back on and shook his head. "Since you're hanging around with vampires now, I thought you might know who he was talking about."

"No, sorry, Arnie," Carly looked up at Eric. "Do you have a guess, Ed?"

Eric crossed his arms and then looked down at his feet. "Well, I've heard stories that vampires have some kind of connection to each other, to the person who gave him the virus. Maybe he was talking about the vampire who gave him the disease."

"Huh," Arnie nodded. "So that's true and all? That story about the virus? Marie knows how much your momma likes that vampire up in New York, and yours, but she's still afraid of them. She prays about it a lot."

"That's what Mr. Northman's told me," Eric said without a hint of irony in his voice.

"Well, just don't go and catch it, Carly. It's good to see you in the daylight." Arnie waved and moved back to his work.

Carly led Eric over to a favorite oak tree that she knew blocked that portion of the yard from view. "Ed Pole?"

"It seemed appropriate," Eric smirked. "After all, a Northman would live toward the pole. And then there are the anatomical similarities."

Carly leaned into him. "Let's get out of here. You can meet the animals another time. I don't want Arnie to catch me feeling up my bodyguard. He might tell on me to my mother."

Wrapping her arms around him and rising up for a kiss, Carly imagined them back within Eric's apartment. When they materialized at the same spot from which they'd departed the night before, Carly felt Eric lurch to the side slightly.

"I'm never going to get used to that, my beloved." Eric steadied himself against the wall as he turned off the alarm.

"Really? It seems painless, although I can tell I should probably take it easy or I'll need a refill."

"If you don't mind," Eric moved toward the kitchen, "I feel weakened, so I'm going to have some blood. What about you?"

Carly walked to the window and raised the metal shutters so she could look outside. "I'm fine. If anything, I'm a little twitchy."

"Are you still troubled by the dream?" Eric asked before taking a sip of blood.

The trickster spirit that gave her the cryptic information about the bracelet returned to her mind. "More than anything, I'm just annoyed. I can feel the changes in me—I know that I'm different. I don't seem to need to eat, although I can and still enjoy it. Somehow I didn't expect that I'd give up sleep."

"Do you think you'll never sleep again?" Eric took another sip. "Even vampires have to rest, although we generally have no dreams."

"That's what 'Odinky' suggested," Carly giggled, intent on getting a rise out of Eric with her intentional blasphemy.

"What did you call him?" Eric stood and walked toward her.

"Odinky. Until I know otherwise, I'm assuming hypostasis until I talk with my ancestors about him."

Eric wrinkled his eyebrows in thought and admitted, "It's not often I don't understand something that's said, but I don't understand how you're using that term. I thought it referred to the Trinity in Christian theology."

"I need to record the date!" Carly kissed his cheek and explained. "In religion or folklore it means two or more beings who share existence. So we could say that Odin and Loki are aspects of the same being."

Eric shook his head in denial. "I find that a very unsatisfactory explanation, and it certainly would trouble my ancestors."

"Your ancestors also thought that valkyries served Odin," Carly reminded. "But I haven't received a schedule."

"Carly," Eric's tone grew serious. "I find your dismissiveness troubling and would prefer that you stop. Even though we've learned many things together about the nature of the universe, some things are still meaningful to me."

"I'm sorry." Carly took Eric's bottle of blood from him and placed it on the table. "Please forgive me. As I said, I'm not feeling myself and don't know how to make sense of him within all of this." After kissing his hands, Carly asked, "How are you coping with everything else?"

"Nothing has changed for me, Carly. I'm still as I was, only I've had the opportunity to walk in the sun."

"But knowing your father came from a family that could shape-shift..."

Eric shrugged. "That makes no difference to me. He chose to live as a man. I grew into a man, and I became vampire." Taking her braceleted arm in his hand, Eric added, "Grandfather's intercession is still a mystery, but I'm grateful for it. We now have an advantage against Edgington's wolves and any other progeny he may have had who remain unknown."

"I'm relieved that you're not troubled." Carly reached up to massage his neck. "You still have time in the sun. Fall in New York is beautiful, almost as beautiful as springtime."

Laughing, Eric said, "And if I start to steam and sputter you'll zap me back indoors?"

"In a heartbeat." Carly kissed him and then turned to lower the shutters again.

Deciding to save teleportation for emergencies, Carly and Eric locked up his apartment and strolled outside. Some of the apartment building staff took a second look at Eric, who held their glance and introduced himself again as Carly's bodyguard. By Carly's count, Eric glamoured four people before they left the building.

They resolved to stay above ground and enjoy the sunshine as long as possible, so they hailed a cab and drove toward Columbus Circle. They started at the south end of the park and worked their way north, pausing for an hour and a half to bathe in the sun on the Great Lawn. Eventually, they ended their daytime journey uptown at the Cloisters. As the sun disappeared over the Palisades, Eric and Carly embraced one another at the far north end of Fort Tryon Park.

"A whole day," Eric said wistfully. "I must find some way to thank Niall, not only for facilitating my revenge, but for giving me a day of sunshine with you."

"I'm sure if you asked him, he'd find something he wanted."

"He can have anything but you, Pam, or Godric. Anything else he desires, he need only ask."

In the gloaming light, Carly and Eric walked back toward the 8th Avenue Line, which offered the fastest egress downtown. While they'd avoided newspapers and TV monitors all day, they couldn't avoid the fall out from the events of the night before. In addition, they had to prepare for the art opening. Abdullah and Edna would never forgive Carly if she were late.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Come, Carly, hold still long enough for me to get a good photograph to send to Pam," Eric instructed as Carly stood, frustrated, posing for a photograph in her new "Pam-styled" outfit.

"I don't think it will work."

"Ridiculous." Eric snapped a shot, inspected the screen, and said, "Huh. I don't understand."

Carly joined him to look at his phone screen and hypothesized, "No one could take a decent photograph of my dad. They were always blurry like that, so I guess I'm just going to have to cultivate a portrait painter."

"Well," Eric sighed, "Pam will have to be satisfied with a picture of the dress around your fuzzy form."

Carly headed toward the door in her floor-length Alexander MacElroy (the enfant terrible of the fashion scene) dress, which alternated strips of black, white, and red fabric around her torso and shoulders in a criss-cross pattern. What felt like a million half-inch wide strips of fabric—in varying lengths creating a bulbous effect—cascaded from just beneath her hips to meet her equally eccentric Roman style stilleto sandals. She topped off the whole look in a heavy velvet cloak with a wide hood that seemed to have walked straight out of Middle Earth and right into Transylvania.

"Pam can photoshop herself in, since this is one of the dresses she intends for us to share."

Eric laughed shortly. "If I needed any further endorsement of your character, I'd be a fool. Pam has never willingly shared anything with anyone—and certainly never shared clothes."

"I think I just double her wardrobe, since she knows I'm happiest in khakis and jeans."

After locking the door, Eric goosed her and said, "I'm happiest when you're naked."

Carly kissed him and replied, "So predictable, but I eat it up."

"Of course you do."

Malcolm, who'd chauffeured them in the past, was otherwise occupied with transporting Edna and Jean-Jacques, who were co-hosting the cocktail party for patrons, artists, and other cognoscenti prior to the opening for the hoi pollo (who still had to have an invitation) at Abdullah's gallery, so the car service that Eric typically used when in New York drove them.

When they arrived at the gallery, Eric and Carly found the entire block cordoned off by police and private security guards, who were directing traffic and checking invitations and identification against the guest lists for the party and the opening that followed.

"Mr. Northman, sir," the driver asked, "do you me to drop you off here, or try to get closer."

"This will be fine." Eric got out of the car on the traffic side, since few cars were moving, and walked around to open Carly's door. After tipping the driver, Eric took Carly's arm with great fanfare. "My beloved, your public awaits."

Carly realized that Pam's outfit made her look like the Queen of All Vampires, and Carly struggled to contain the freighter full of thoughts directed toward her. _Who's that..._

_She's beautiful...and her man...is he a vampire too..._

_Please take me home..._

_I'll do anything you ask of me..._

_Damn things should dig themselves back in the ground where they came from..._

_I wonder if any will ever become movie stars?_

Despite the intensity of their attention, Carly sensed little genuine malice in the crowd, just curiosity, so she wondered what justified the security.

"Good evening officer," Eric addressed the patrolman who seemed to be the primary obstacle to their progress through the line as he handed him their invitation and identification.

"So you're Carly Michael?" The patrolman asked with enthusiasm.

"Um, yes." Carly wasn't expecting to be treated like a VIP, especially by one of New York's finest.

"You're mom's been really good to us, especially these last couple of years, since the attacks. She's a good woman, so I'm glad to meet you." The patrolman smiled as he handed the ID back to Eric.

In the officer's good graces, Carly asked, "Why all the security? It's just a little gallery."

The officer grunted. "Well, didn't you see the news last night?"

Eric answered, "No, we were occupied and then rested today."

"Well," the patrolman jutted his chin toward Eric, "you may have already known about it, mister, but last night this vampire came on TV and said he was Heinrich Himmler—that Nazi that ran the camps—so the mayor wanted extra security, just in case anyone decided that vampires might have Hilter in there, or Pol Pot."

"Not to my knowledge." Eric looked to Carly, "Had you known Himmler was a vampire?"

"I hadn't," Carly lied, taking full advantage of the pluperfect construction to justify herself. Indeed, there had been a time when she hadn't known that Himmler was a vampire. That time had passed, but it had once been there.

"Just watch yourselves. There are a lot of people anxious." The patrolman gestured toward the crowd, "And even more of them are curious, which I think can be worse."

"We will be," Eric affirmed, before adding, with sincerity, "Thank you for your acceptance."

"Hey, you know, I've been a cop ten years, and all I've ever seen is humans being bad to each other. I oughta let vampires give me a chance to prove themselves worse, before I'm a jerk about you guys. Judge not, lest, you know?"

With that, the officer instructed the crowd to back off. "If you're not invited, disperse! Please have your invite out and some ID."

Carly noted the private security personnel surveying the crowd and communicating with one another on head-sets as they walked into the front of the gallery. The last time she'd been there, years prior, Abdullah's gallery was comparatively indistinguishable from any other New York City mid-range gallery. Canvases of various shapes and sizes hung in small groupings on tall white walls, some fixed, some moveable. Since Abdullah also bought and sold historical art—and some artifacts—he had large pedestals in the center of the gallery and a few glass display cases. The space, generally speaking, however, was vast, unobstructed, and fairly cold, despite Abdullah's own warm and welcoming personality. The gallery had a large, bright north eastern exposure, and Abdullah generally kept daylight hours, since he preferred to show art in natural rather than artificial light.

For this show, however, the gallery was completely transformed. Rather than its vast, open area, with art hanging primarily on the exterior walls in aesthetically pleasing groupings that combined works by multiple artists somewhat promiscuously, the gallery now featured a warren of little spaces full of nooks and crannies, decorated in vibrant or light-absorbing dark colors. Many of the floating walls were painted black, and each room was lit in such a way that lamps of different intensities alternated with one another. Carly found the effect-not quite as strong or as extreme as a strobe-disorienting, almost as much as the change in the spatial organization of the gallery itself.

In addition, the psychic landscape of the gallery perplexed her. Vampires, humans, and some other beings mixed freely, but seemed focused entirely on the art, apparently ignoring each other.

"Darling!" Edna's voice greeted them, but Carly couldn't determine its direction, until Edna repeated more forcefully, "Darling, look up!"

Overwhelmed by the flood of initial impressions, Carly had neglected to look toward the ceiling. While some of the little rooms were closed off, others were open to a catwalk of wires and ropes that had been suspended over them. Edna was perched on a divan that hung from the ceiling on chains.

"Mom! How on earth did you get up there? Why are you up there?"

"Isn't it marvelous?" Edna tossed a rope ladder off the side of the divan and climbed down to join them at floor level. "I wore a suit just because of this piece."

Eric walked below the divan taking it in from multiple angles before noticing the explanation card that was laminated to the floor.

_My View_, Elena Pantapolous (Greece, transformation approx. 1680)

Installation, 18th century European Divan, manufacturer uncertain, re-covered in artist-designed silk textile.

The vampire is simultaneously of the human world and detached from it. This piece provides an analogy for that detachment accessible to human experience. All fibers used for the textile were hand-harvested from generations of the artists' own silk worm colony; dyes were harvested by the artist along the coasts of contemporary Lebanon, Israel, Tunis, and Algeria. The textile took 160 years to complete. The artist acquired the divan in Athens in a second-hand market on one night in the winter of 1790, shortly after nightfall.

"Amazing." After reading the description, Eric picked up Carly and rose to the ceiling in one motion. "We have to look at the fabric."

Although somewhat stunned by her rapid ascent, Carly appreciated the opportunity to look more closely at the textile. Mythological creatures, shepherds, Ottoman soldiers, and English gentlemen congregated and battled on the lustrous deep red, nearly purple, fabric Occasional embroidery highlighted a figure in the shadows, who periodically emerged to embrace another human form. Carly realized that the woman, who wore different costumes in each of her appearances, must be Elena, who couldn't have been more than twenty when she became a vampire. Even in miniature, rendered in silk, she was spectacularly beautiful.

"I wonder if she's here," Carly contemplated aloud.

"I doubt it, honestly. I met her only on one occasion, but Thalia said she never could persuade her to leave her island, although she enjoyed the opportunity to meet others from around the world."

"Thalia knows her?"

"Thalia made Elena," Eric pronounced with gravity. "So I suppose that means, likely, that we have something in common with Elena."

Carly marvelled at the way in which vampires had to reckon time. Thalia was over 2500 years old, but made a child, who still lived, in 1680, so how many other children had she made? How many of them still lived, and how many of them did she still communicate with? Eric, a thousand years old, Godric, two thousand, Jean-Jacques, 1300 years old. By anthropological standards, all the vampires walking the earth were practically one large extended family, although she'd never tried to pin Eric, or anyone down about how those connections actually worked. She suspected, since Godric and Jean-Jacques had both mentioned Thalia's "lineage," and how impressive it was, even though Russell had managed to destroy her maker, that blood-line was extraordinarily important to vampire society. Some vampires, such as Godric and Jean-Jacques, chose their children carefully, and survived for hundreds, if not thousands, of years alone, without any companion. Others, such as Bill Compton, had less selective makers, and probably wound up making more "lost" children. And Carly only began to contemplate the number of vampires initiated into the "mystery" before Eric pulled her from her thoughts.

"Do you want to go back down to the floor?" Eric caressed her exposed thigh and asked, "Are you all right? You seem to be troubled."

Carly smiled. "What do you feel from me?"

"Confusion, awe, wonder, fear." Eric kissed her hand. "But I can't read your mind, so I don't know what has elicited those feelings. I'm accustomed to awe when we're in the bedroom, but I don't believe that's usually coupled with confusion."

"Oh," she giggled, "I know exactly what I'm doing when I'm awestruck."

"I thought so."

Taking Carly back up into his arms, Eric floated slowly back down to the main floor. Their reappearance excited interest in "My View," so they moved on, trying to rediscover Edna, or find Abdullah and Jean-Jacques.

"I never got a chance, Eric," Carly said, "to invite Thalia out here for the show. I wanted to go with her to the Met."

"You seem to have a remarkable effect on her," Eric admitted. "Our relationship has been..." he paused, "complex in the past, so I'm grateful that you and she seem to have such unproblematic friendship."

Carly smirked, remembering how she learned that Thalia had "deprived Eric" of something years before. "So what was it she took away from you?"

Startled by a wave of embarrassment and shame that poured forth from Eric, Carly laughed nervously and backed away slightly.

"I would prefer, if possible, not to discuss it. The memory upsets me, although I learned a very powerful lesson by it."

Focusing all her intention on Eric's mind, she struggled to reveal Eric's memory.

"Please, Carly," Eric countered, "respect this one bit of privacy. Do not try to uncover it yourself," he paused, "as I can feel you are doing right now."

Carly winced and apologized. "I'm sorry. You just have to admit, it's a tantalizing idea, the great Eric Northman embarrassed by tiny little Thalia."

"Who has a temper that should not be trifled with and a sense of..." Eric drifted off.

Rather than follow up, Carly let the issue lie. Perhaps Eric would trust her enough at some point to share, or she could get it out of Thalia.

As they moved through the crowd toward the table of hors d'oevres and the bar, the two finally spotted Jean-Jacques, palling around cheerfully with Abdullah, the Mayor, and a spectacular-looking woman in a gorgeous purple silk dress that tumbled from her shoulders in waves. The moment that Carly caught a glimpse of her, with her raven hair and long gold necklaces made of finely crafted chains, Carly felt an immediate admiration welling up within herself—the sense that this woman was compelling and powerful and would be interesting to know—coupled with a powerful fear and repulsion from Eric.

"You know her?" Carly asked softly as Jean-Jacques waved them over.

"Unfortunately," Eric admitted. "You felt my emotions, I take it."

"She seems magnetic," Carly said, since she could tell by the flickers of lust that lay beneath Eric's disdain that he'd been involved with this woman at some point. For whatever reason, jealousy didn't flare up with that realization.

"She is, and she knows she is. And few ever break free of her field of influence. I barely did." Eric grasped Carly's hand and gave it a squeeze. "But I have no reason to fear for her influence over you."

"What?"

"I've never allowed Pam to meet Leticia, because I couldn't bear the idea of losing her."

Carly stopped him as they approached, so that he had to turn to face her. "You're afraid that I would leave you?"

Eric drew her close to him and pressed his forehead against hers. "My rational mind is not, but I've also known Leticia for five hundred years—not consistently, but our paths have crossed, usually once or twice a century." He kissed Carly and continued, "And in that five hundred years, I've watched as she became the eye of every storm, the muse to every artist, and the epicenter of every cultural movement. For Abdullah, her presence suggests great things. But for the hearts of those in this room who fall desperately in love with her, there will be nothing but sadness and despair."

Neither Eric nor Carly realized how close Leticia had come, they heard, "You make me sound as if I'm the grand architect of some Masonic fantasy."

"You would know," he replied, without separating himself from Carly. "Didn't you introduce young Wolfgang to the Masons?"

"Oh," she giggled, "I don't believe I did, but one never remembers exactly who attended a salon and how an idea develops from one mind to another." She extended her hands toward Carly. "You must be the delightful creature who has finally tamed the Viking. I hesitate to assign a totem, but I believe a 'tom-cat' would be most appropriate for our dear viking."

Since so few vampires extended their hands, Carly didn't hesitate to grasp Leticia's. "I'm Carly Michael, but I'm hardly a lion-tamer."

"Pish-posh," Leticia replied lightly. "If you've been his only bed companion for more than two days, I believe you've tamed him."

"Leticia, you..."

Carly didn't hear the rest of Eric's objection, because sounds that manifested from their touch—conjured up in Leticia's mind-crowded out the sound of the gallery, just as the smells of lilac, rose, and patchouli crowded out the smells of the hors d'oeuvres and the sensations of touching Eric's bare skin mingled with the sensation of touching hundreds of others, and overloaded her brain, divorcing her senses from her own body.

"Carly," Eric said as he pulled her away and out of Leticia's grip, "are you all right?"

"My word!" Leticia exclaimed, clapping her hands together eagerly, "Perhaps my congratulations were misplaced! Perhaps it's Northman who's tamed the wild beast."

Despite Eric's efforts to block her access to Carly, Leticia leaned in close and asked "what manner of beast are you?"

"None that you need concern yourself with, dear Leticia," Jean-Jacques scolded as he came over to the threesome. He took Leticia's arm and moved her away from Carly.

"Oh, Jean-Jacques, please don't ruin my fun. I've just barely gotten acquainted with Carly, and Eric jumps in front her of her as if I'm some rabid dog, and you come fetch me to send me back to the corner." She pouted and crossed her arms. "What am I to do?"

"I am certain, dear Leticia, that you will find some other compelling human to acquire, enrich, and leave broken hearted."

"That's not fair, Jean-Jacques," she objected. "You know how well humans fare around me, especially if they allow me to help them as much as I offer."

The king laughed and replied, "I know Leticia. You might come across, especially to one who was once in your thrall, such as dear Eric here, as conniving, grasping, unyielding, and undeniably magnificent, as you are, but you only want to be seen as a patron of the arts and culture.

"That is all I am, and had some artists simply done as I asked, or invited, our world would have been a better place. I still remember dear Philip, who I wished so desperately to be by my side forever, but he was undone by the depth of his own piety and generosity."

"Ah yes," Jean-Jacques said as he rolled his eyes. "You will never recover from that, will you?"

Carly couldn't help byt look over Eric's shoulder in search of more information. With a groan, he turned so that Carly could face Leticia.

"That's better, sweet Eric, I will not bite, unless you and she ask me too," Leticia laughed and then directed her attention to Carly.

"You are Edna's daughter, so I presume you're well educated. Do you recognize the name Philip Sidney?"

"The poet?" Carly asked.

"Indeed, you have been educated. So rare among Americans, which is why I've never settled here. I still prefer Vienna over all other places." Leticia returned from her digression and continued. "I adored his sister Mary, of whom you should have heard, but certainly have not, because misogyny has dimmed her star. Mary, Countess of Pembroke, nurtured and loved her brother, and sheltered him when thaty vain cow Elizabeth sent him from court."

"Leticia," Jean-Jacques censured, "you're name dropping."

"As all good patrons do," she said as she wrapped her arm around his in a gesture of solidarity. "I'm certain you have always done it just as much as I, even though you've deprived yourself of the carnal delights attached to the names."

She laughed again lightly. "Mary and I enjoyed each other's company greatly, especially as her husband was often away. For a brief time, I enjoyed a small cottage—converted from a tomb—on her property, and assisted as she and her women folk learned Latin, perfected their French, and began translating. When dear, sweet Philip arrived, he joined our circle, along with one or two of his groveling friends, but we had great fun. Of course, like every good protestant in England at the time, he swore vengence on the Spanish, so had to go meddle in the Dutch Wars."

Vague recollections about Sidney's life—gleaned mostly from museum placards of Signey family artifacts—bubbled up into Carly's consciousness.

"So, did you try to persuade him not to go?" Carly asked.

"Oh, of course not, why would I prevent a young man from earning his stripes? But his sister did beg me to send a flask of wine, mixed with my blood, along with him. We instructed him, and his companion, that if he were injured, he was to be given the wine immediately, so that he would heal and return to us whole and, I hoped, longing for me, suitably primed for transformation."

"But he died, didn't he?" Carly felt she'd might as well be sitting in a circle in the library. Leticia was an entrancing story teller, with fluent off-the-cuff gestures that suggested the procession of moods and attitudes from resignation to anger to despair to conviviality, again.

"Of course! When he was ulled from battle, afflicted solely with a flesh wound, what did he do?" She threw her hand back over her forehead and said, dramatically, "Oh no, let the man who has greater need drink my wine!"

Jean-Jacques shook his head, either from disappointment or from frustration of hearing the story again.

"And the Countess and I received coffin enclosing Philip's armor and personal effects, a note of apology from Fulke Greville, for not having refused Philip's magnanimous gesture, and a simpering idiot third son whom I drained, transformed, and staked, just on principle!"

The only sound Carly could hear was Leticia's sharp laughter. "Alas, the dear Countess and I parted ways soon after."

Carly laughed as well, not because of Leticia's invitation to laugh, but with the relief that comes only after a profound revelation.

"What, lover?" Eric asked.

"I get it now." Carly laughed harder. "Those people outside, who all want to see vampires, who are all fascinated by vampires and how they look and how they live, all of them, even the ones who think you're all devils, they're really just interested in vampires like you," she pointed at Leticia. "They imagine that all vampires are like you!"

Leticia laughed even harder and brushed against Carly's chin before she met Eric's eye. "Oh, she's beautiful, fragrant, mysterious, and wise!"

"And mine," Eric added.

"Entirely," Leticia affirmed with a smile. "So I have no power over you, no appeal, Carly?"

Carly smiled broadly and wrapped her arm around Eric. "I just hope I can be as interesting as you when I'm an old woman."

With a look of genuine hurt, Leticia said, "Oh, you don't fight fair, my girl. Attacking a woman about her age. You are a welcome and brutal opponent. It's a pleasure to know you. Now, if you don't mind, I have vermin to enthrall."

Leticia flounced away, blowing kisses to Eric, Jean-Jacques, and Carly, who felt Eric's relief wash across their bond.

"Are you happy to have met Munch's actual _Vampyr_?" Jean-Jacques asked.

"Really?" Carly looked again at Leticia. "Wow!"

"And of course, you've seen _The Scream_, so you know what happened to him as a result of his acquaintence." Jean-Jacques shook his head. "It's nearly impossible not to admire her, even love her, except that one recognizes immediately that what makes her so delicious is her extraordinary cruelty—not like Russell. No, he truly wished to do harm to the human world. Leticia's cruelty emerges from the fact that Leticia recognizes no other beings as worth being." Jean-Jacques extended his arm, summoning Eric and Carly toward the buffett and the mayor, who was holding court among a group of humans. "We are all simply flies and Leticia pulls our wings for her own enjoyment. Of course, she smells of nothing so much as honey, so we all fly to her willing accomplices in our own destruction."

Carly grabbed a few small nibbles and a glass of wine, while Eric took a True Blood. Jean-Jacques emphasized, quietly, that he and Edna expected performances of equality between humans and vampires. He suggested, strongly, that Eric was to keep his feet on the ground and keep pace with Carly for the rest of the evening. Any who wished to see "My View," needed to climb the ladder—whether human or vampire.

"I didn't even think of it, Jean-Jacques. My apologies," Eric offered.

"There is no difficulty with what is done, Eric, because all who are present right now are familiar with the range of our abilities. That may not be as much the case once our official party has concluded."

As soon as they'd reached the buffett, the mayor approached hesitantly. He had known Edna since they were children, and their families went back almost as far back in New York, although they had a different ethnic and religious background. Remembering how she usually recoiled from embraces or kisses, the mayor Arnold Rothmann, offered her a hearty wave and a smile.

"Carly, you know, my momma would say you've cleaned up nicely," he laughed and then extended his hand to Eric, who looked at it somewhat dismissively until Jean-Jacques cleared his throat.

"Eric Northman." Carly could see that Eric's handshake lacked enthusiasm, and she could feel his annoyance through their connection.

"It's great to see you Arnie. I've never got the chance to congratulate you." Carly reached out and gave him the traditional New York kiss on the cheek, and he recoiled for once. "See, Eric's taught me some manners."

After an uncomfortable laugh, the mayor said, "Well, it's about time somebody did!" Patting Jean-Jacques on the back, Rothmann offered expansively, "This is one hell of a party, Carly, don't you think Jean-Jacques and your mother have done a bang-up job?"

"Certainly." Carly had always known Rothmann and always marginally distrusted him, since he was notorious for maintaining multiple women around town at any given point and had paid untoward attention to her mother after she was widowed. Some he married, others remained married to their first or second or third husbands. And a fairly large inventory shifted in and out of circulation. For whatever reason—probably because he first made loads and loads of extraordinarily secure money as a businessman and now (as mayor) had the trains running on time, the garbage collected, and had boat-loads of money pumping through the local economy—no one ever said anything too damning—at least not in print. After some of the excesses of the previous administration, which was widely hailed as a group of modern day fascisti without Mussolini's style, Rothmann was well-liked and trusted with city administration. Since everybody in a union seemed to be getting along—police, transit, fire, and teachers—and keeping out of the way of business, his reign was anticipated to continue for as many terms as was legal at that moment. While he was a Republican, everyone knew that he was the biggest RINO there ever had been in New York politics, and would have been the farthest left-wing democrat in any other place in the country, if not an outright socialist.

But something seemed odd about his presence at this party, either in the way that he carried himself, or in the way that he kept looking around, scoping out the doors when no one looked at him directly. So Carly peered inside and tried to see the world through his eyes.

_Mossad...that's what they said. Mossad agents here at any moment...could be here already...could be anybody...are there even vampires in Israel? No one talks about that...always talking about the Muslims and how they went psycho. Nothing from the rabbi about vampires, except blood's not kosher...Could Jean-Jacques be one of them? He's French, he could have run the underground, god damn it how old is he anyway...he's always been here...always..always. And now I've got to figure out what on earth to do with this dried up old Nazi...why couldn't he have come forward in LA or DC. Why here? Why on my turf? And then there's word of this high roller in Mississippi going missing...those weird calls from Nan Flanagan in the middle of the goddamned night. _

Carly squeezed Eric's hand before she began talking. "So, Mr. Mayor," she emphasized with a wink, "the patrolman outside said something about Himmler being a vampire, and that's why there's all that security out there. What gives?"

"Oy!" Rothmann said, with a series of gestures that could have come straight out of a caricature. "You didn't see it? You're probably the only person in the country that hasn't seen anything about it. He was all all fricking night with that woman from CNN—the pretty one with funny name."

"Soraya," Jean-Jacques offered. "I've come to know her, and I like her very much. A very compassionate, intelligent woman."

"I didn't know you were looking for a girl, Jean-Jacques," Rothmann nudged him as a frat boy would.

"I haven't been looking, Mr. Mayor," Jean-Jacques spotted someone—Carly suspected it was someone who wasn't real-and excused himself to get away from accusations of being a playboy. "Pardon me, I must talk to a new arrival."

Rothmann pointed at Jean-Jacques and said, "It's been good to know him. I had no idea how many people all owe him a favor. He's helped me through a couple of really sticky situations since I came into office—even before I knew he was a vampire." Rothmann smiled at Eric and then continued to talk about Himmler. "So, yeah, Himmler. He came forward and confessed everything he had ever done. By the end of the night, he'd identified treasure hoards, outed other Nazis who'd become vampires over the years, given the location of camps that had been destroyed before the Allies and Soviets invaded, and then just before sun-up he ran outside and stood there burning until somebody threw a blanket over him." Rothmann shook his head. "They caught it all on tape."

"So what's going to happen to him now?" Eric asked.

Arnie just shrugged. "I don't know. They put him in the basement of Bellevue, out of the light, and Jean-Jacques recommended that we just let him sleep. He woke up a while ago, drank some blood, and then just walked out of the hospital."

Carly coughed up the wine she'd been sipping. "Excuse me! He just walked out?"

"Yeah. That's why we have all the security. I hear that the Israelis want him, to put him on trial, and the army's out looking for him, but I haven't heard anything yet." The Mayor downed half a glass of wine in one slurp, and then shook his head again. "I don't know. I guess he could just have found himself a spot to burst into flames where no one can find him."

The Mayor excused himself to go politic with a couple of humans who'd been major donors to his campaign, and Carly and Eric just looked at each other intently.

"What should we do?"

"Carly, I have no idea. We've been asked to help balance the scales. If he destroys himself, he will still be destroyed." A far-off look came over Eric's face, and then he said, "And I learned last night that no punishment can ever be enough. Nothing will ever fill the hole he created in humanity's soul."

"He was only one shovel," Carly philosophized.

"Yes. Only one of many."

The two lovers continued around the gallery after finishing their first round of refreshments. One artist's work caught Carly's attention, because of the red light that flooded his display space. Carly recognized the costellations that populated the northwestern night sky, but the artist included so many more stars than she'd ever seen, even on the clearest night in the darkest reaches of New Mexico or Sweden, far from any cities that might pollute artificial light.

The artist, Oyo Abnebanji, sat proudly beside his paintings, perched on a stool as if he were waiting for a drink at a bar. He never offered up commentary. He just sat there.

Finally, Eric turned to him and nodded. "Yes, that is what it's like, isn't it?"

"I think so," Oyo replied in beautifully accented English that Carly couldn't quite place. "I ground metals into the paint to capture the refraction."

"It really is sublime." Eric moved a few feet to the left to examine the piece from a slightly different angle. "Has it already sold?"

"Unfortunately," Oyo said with a smile. "The Mayor purchased it shortly after opening."

"If I may be so bold, I will not be happy unless I leave New York with one or more of your pieces."

Oyo nodded happily, although still with appropriate gravitas. "I am honored Mr. Northman." Producing a card, Oyo then bowed his head low to Carly. "And by your presence. My people called your kind the gathering women. I recognize you and am grateful for what you do."

"Thank you," Carly replied sincerely. "Where are you from?"

"We had no borders when I was young, so the name we had was the name of my people, and my name attached itself to me much, much later. Perhaps today it would be Benin, perhaps not. Perhaps Nigeria. It is hard to say, because I still do not read a map the way I read the land. But I have been happy in this country and in others. My maker teaches me to take joy with every moonrise, to live like the lion, and I have and do, even still. Even a lion who does not kill may still enjoy the hunt." He chuckled, "Although I have never been fond of the real lions. Such egos!"

Eric extended his hand, and the two men joined forearms, as Carly had seen in representations of Roman handshakes. "I am privileged to have met you."

"As I you, blood of Godric."

Taking Carly by the elbow, the two moved into the next room.

"This is a humbling experience, Carly."

"Why? Who was that?"

"I have never encountered him before, but he is one of the most ancient vampires I have ever met. I thought that Russell was the oldest, but he was..." Eric paused, "beyond ancient. And he described his maker in the present tense, which means that he still lives."

"So there's not a vampire directory anywhere? No 'Who's Who' for vampires?"

Eric shrugged and answered in a whisper, "The authority has records, but one such as he would be legendary, and I have never heard him spoken of. That means that ancients—true ancients—likely exist without participating in politics."

"But he's out and about," Carly offered. "And he suggested he didn't kill, so that's good. Doesn't that mean he's connected somehow?"

"I presume he's connected through Jean-Jacques, but that means that the King of New York is much, much craftier than I'd ever presumed." Eric moved them into another room, filled with garish punk-rock inspired zombie heads and a multiply pierced woman vampire, who seemed young both in human and vampire years. They didn't linger, but continued through the maze in search of Jean-Jacques, both of them hoping to draw him aside for more conclusive information.

It took about a half hour of wending through the crowd to locate him, and Leticia clung to his side when they did find him.

"Is the party going well, Jean-Jacques," Carly asked. "I haven't seen my mother since we got here."

"Neither have I," Jean-Jacques admitted, before suggesting, "I presume that she and her beloved Syrian have stolen a few minutes alone somewhere."

"Seriously?"

"Carly," Jean-Jacques laughed at her exclamation, "you need to speak with your mother more. I believe you will shortly have to change your form of address for dear Abdullah." With a playful "shushing" gesture, Jean-Jacques added, "Of course, such secrets are not mine to offer."

"Of course!" Carly hugged the king, who jumped slightly.

"My dear, I need to collect secrets by the basket so I can win more of your affections."

"Carly," Eric cautioned. "Please, control yourself."

"I'm sorry," Carly apologized, but she was unrepentent. "I just want my mom to be happy, and you've helped that, Jean-Jacques."

Leticia drawled quietly, like a predator, "I have many secrets to share, Carly. May I have a hug?"

"No," Eric insisted. "No, you may not Leticia." Stepping between the two women again, Eric said, "Jean-Jacques, we need a few moments of your time, please."

The king, Eric, and Carly retreated into Abdullah's office, where they conferred quietly. "Yes, Eric?"

"Mayor Rothmann told us that Himmler is free and walking about New York City unencumbered." Eric took on a sentry's posture as he questioned the king. "Do we need to act to bring him back under control?"

"That is the question, yes?" Jean-Jacques lifted his hands slightly and replied, "He tried to burn, but a good Samaritan saved him. I'm certain he will try again at sunrise. If he fails, I believe he will try again until he succeeds. I planned to tell you."

"Was there some reason you hesitated?" Carly wondered if Jean-Jacques were keeping information to himself. "Do you know something you don't want to share?"

"As I told you, agents had been looking for Himmler ever since the rumors began, and three comb the city tonight—two vampires and a very skilled, very dangerous human."

"But why didn't you tell us," Eric demanded.

"You," Jean-Jacques pointed at each of them in turn, "have rid the world of a plague, rid our kind of a sore, a festering carbuncle, and I believed you needed a night to enjoy yourselves, to be light, and lively, and in love, as you are." Jean-Jacques took Carly's hand. "How much have you changed in the last six months? Your mother tells stories of how you would hide, run outside to be with your dogs and your horses, how you tried to starve yourself when those cruel children drugged you." Jean-Jacques brushed aside a tear that teetered too long on Carly's bottom eyelid and savored its taste before continuing. "When have you ever simply been able to stand on your beloved's arm, as beautiful as you are tonight? When have you had an opportunity to be admired and desired, without the dead demanding their faces, or the jealous poisoning your thoughts?" The king drew his fingers across his throat suddenly. "Psht! Never! But tonight, you are Cinderella, and this is your Prince Charming! You are a beautiful shield-maiden accompanied by your magnificent Viking warrior, and tonight you will bask in that experience. Let others worry about death."

Jean-Jacques rose from the desk where he'd perched himself, straightened his jacket officiously, and declared, "And as I am king of this realm, the wealthiest, most creative city on the planet, and I have made it what it is—crude functionaries such as Rothmann be damned—I will have my way."

With that, he rushed out the door of the office.

"We have our instructions, it would appear." Eric gathered Carly up into his arms and agreed, "He's right. You deserve this and more."

"Thank you." Carly kissed him and imagined with more than a little amusement her vampire cotillion, vampire prom, and vampire engagement party as it unfolded within the walls of Abdullah's gallery on Halloween Night. "I think I could get used to a little happiness."

THE END

PS Thank you for all your kindness and support. I hope that the ambivalent, loose ends aren't too unsatisfying. I wanted to conclude the piece with the suggestion that all would be resolved, with our without their direct intervention.


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